Somtimes, Love Just Ain't Enough 3 of 3
by mccoylover
Summary: Sequel to Forsaking All Others. Picks up eight months after the fateful discovery in the hotel bathroom, the morning after Jack McCoy Mothership and Liz Donnelly SVU marry. McCoy's marriage to Liz Donnelly continues, with several LO regulars along the way
1. Cira 8 l 80: It's 8 Months Later

_As you begin this story, remember our hero's and heroine's are all approximately 25 years younger than last season. They are a little greener, a little more apt to make decisions they may live to regret._

_**August 1980:**_

Detective Lennie Briscoe looked towards the window upon hearing the familiar tap on the glass.

"Relax, dirt bag, I won't be long."

Briscoe silently prayed the interruption was due to the district attorney's arrival and not the Public Defender. Briscoe knew, if he had another ten minutes with the suspect, he could get the guy to crack. His eyes widened at the sight of the very pregnant blonde beside Detective Don Cragen.

"Lennie Briscoe? Last time I saw you, you were working Robbery!"

"Counselor," Briscoe said opening his arms in greeting. "I'm on rotation. I'll be out of SVU in next month. Last time I saw you was the night before your wedding. That was what? Almost eight months ago? Looks like that Irishman of yours doesn't believe in wasting any time. Congratulations, sweetheart."

"Thanks, Lennie."

Elizabeth McCoy returned the grin as Briscoe embraced her.

"I don't want you to think I'm some kind of chauvinist pig, but you look like you should be decorating a nursery, not questioning a serial rapist-."Briscoe blanched at the look the young ADA gave him.

"I hope you're not questioning my ability to do my job Detective," was her icy response.

Briscoe looked questioningly at Cragen, who shrugged his shoulders.

"Come on Liz," Cragen injected. "ease up . You know us Neanderthal's. We feel this basic desire to protect-"

"Gentlemen, leave the smothering to my husband," Elizabeth Donnelly McCoy retorted, as she skimmed the file in her hand. "I know first hand how well you dance, Lennie. I assume you've spun the suspect around the floor more than a few times? Is he Mirandized and ready to confess?"

Briscoe laughed good naturedly as he replied. "Would you settle for one out of two?"

"Guess I'll have to. Has he asked for an attorney yet?"

"Not yet," Cragen added. " But that's not to say he won't, if we give him enough time to think about it."

Liz nodded as Briscoe opened the door to the interrogation room.

"Mr. Branson, this is ADA McCoy," Briscoe explained as Branson's eyes widened. "If you're smart, you'll listen to what she has to say, maybe reach an agreement before the lab results come back and bury you for good."

"I already told you, Briscoe, you've got the wrong guy."

"If that's the case Mr. Branson, then maybe you can tell me how the victims necklace came to be in your possession, what you were doing two blocks from the victims apartment when you picked up, and-"

"I'm not telling this bitch anything,," Branson sneered. "What's wrong Briscoe? You can't beat a confess out of me, so you bring in a woman to nag one out of me?"

Liz lowered her eyes momentarily, feeling a surge of rage she knew she couldn't afford to give in to.

One of the first lessons she had learned during her pregnancy was the wisdom in thinking through her responses before blurting them out. She'd trained herself to save those responses for the man responsible for her change from cool calculating prosecutor to, what some would call, hormonally challenged psycho bitch.

"Mr. Branson." Liz replied, with what she hoped sounded like icy coolness, "You would do well to remember it's not Detective Briscoe that decides not only whether you'll be charged, but what with, and when. You've been read your rights, the police report shows probable cause, you've been placed at the scene-"

"Listen, lady, maybe getting knocked up has effected you hearing along with the size of your gut. I _said_ I aint talkin to you. So, why don't you stop flapping your yap and stop wasting my time?"


	2. Jack's Back

Detective Donald Cragen cringed at the same moment Briscoe did, when heard Branson's remark. Cragen had seen Liz McCoy in too many similar situations. He knew how short her fuse was. He also knew from observing Briscoe's with Branson, this guy would like nothing more than to light that fuse, just to watch the explosion.

"Detective.?"

Cragen turned to find Jack McCoy appearing haggard and slightly dazed.

"Counselor, what brings you to the squad? Last I heard, you were working Major Felonies?"

McCoy opened his mouth to respond, as he causally glanced at the interrogation room scene. Suddenly he paused, his eyes widening with surprise.

"I'm here for Henderson - the triple homicide? Your guys were involved in the arrest. I'm told he was brought here for questioning, until Manetii and Styles get here from the 2 7?"

Cragen followed his gaze as the voices from the other room grew louder. Briscoe was on his feet moving towards Branson.

"Henderson's in a cage waiting for the PD," Cragen said as he hastily opened the door. "Excuse me."

McCoy watched as Cragen joined Briscoe. The two men flanked the other man. Cragen reiterated Briscoe's admonishment for Branson to pipe down.

McCoy could feel his pulse quicken as he listened to his wife press the suspect. As enlightened as Jack McCoy thought he was, he hated the fact his pregnant wife was sitting less than three feet from felon. A felon involved in some kind of sex crime. Early on his career, McCoy had done a brief stunt in the Sex Crimes Bureau; covering for an ADA who had to take an unexpected medical leave for aw few weeks. In that short time he saw things he'd never seen, even in the most grizzily of murder cases. Things things that kept him awake at night weeks after he returned to his own job. Things he prayed no woman in his life would ever have to see.

The first trimester of the pregnancy, he had tried to ignore his feelings. McCoy put up a supportive front that his initiative wife had quickly seen through. By the middle of the second trimester he had threatened to go to new DA Adam Schiff, if his wife wouldn't transfer out of the Sex Crimes Bureau or at minimum, talk to Schiff herself about cutting back her case load.

At that point, Liz had retorted they didn't have much of a marriage if McCoy did trust her judgment in both her career choices and the protection of their unborn child. With that, he had reluctantly dropped the subject.

"If I walk out that door, any chance of a plea, goes with me," Liz said as she moved to get up.

"All right, you want it so much. I'll give it to you, bitch. But first, I want to know what you're going to give me."

The faintest hint of a smile flashed across Liz's lips, one only her husband had caught. She returned to the chair and folded her hands in front of her.

"Being pregnant doesn't make me naive, Mr. Branson. Any deal depends on what you have to say and how you back it up "

Branson nodded and opened his mouth to speak as the Detective Anita Van Buren joined the group, report file in hand.

"Briscoe, the captain needs you in his office," Van Buren announced as she handed Liz the file. "Mrs. McCoy, the captain thought you might want to look this over before you agree to any deal with Mr. Branson, here."

Liz nodded as she opened the file. As Briscoe and Van Buren left Liz looked up at Cragen, who had moved to her side of the table and was reading the lab results over her shoulder.

"Gee, Mr. Branson, looks like you missed your window of opportunity," Cragen said softly.

"What? Wait just a damn minute," Branson shout. "what are you talkin' about?"

Donnelly leaned back in her chair, as self satisfied smirk resting on her lips.

"Detective Cragen is right. No deal. In your haste to leave the victim's apartment, you neglected to notice the victims blood on your shoe, Mr. Branson. You also overshot the toilet when you tried to dispose of your condom after the rape," she said dispassionately as she stood. "I'd image this wouldn't be the first time you, ah, overshot."

"No fucking _bitch _talks to me that way," Branson screamed. Suddenly on his feet, pushing the table out of the way he lunged for Liz, who stood instinctively stepping back, loosing her balance.

Cragen moved to keep himself between Branson and Liz, reaching out to her to keep her from falling, while Branson reached out as well, trying to shove Cragen out of the way.

Before Cragen could react, Branson found himself flying across the interrogation room, landing head first against the opposite wall.

"I'll have your badge you son of a bit-,"Branson began, interrupted by the fist that smashed into his gut.

"Jack!"

"McCoy back off," Cragen hissed as he cuffed Branson shoving him back into the chair. "Liz, get him the hell out of here - now!"

Branson still doubled over in pain, strained to look up at McCoy, as Liz stared up at her husband with a mixture of astonishment and fury.

"You're finished man. I have witnesses-"

"You think so," McCoy scornfully countered, to rolling up a sleeve. " In for a penny in for a pound."

"Shut up Branson," Cragen snapped as he turned to McCoy. "Both of you. _Go_. Now!"


	3. Silence is Golden

"Baiting a suspect? What the hell were you thinking ," he bellowed as they stood outside the precinct.

"I know how to run an interrogation Jack," she said stiffly. "You're the one that-"

"It was a sloppy interrogation. You know better, Liz. The first time we worked a case together, I taught you -"

"I'm not your assistant anymore," she retorted as she held her hand up to flag a cab. "Don't presume to lecture-"

"Damn it Liz, you're pregnant-"

"So you _hit a suspect_," she asked incredulously. "For God's sake Jack, the man was in handcuffs! Instead of playing caveman, maybe you should think about how we're going afford diapers if you get yourself fired-"

"He obviously doesn't need his hands free to do damage. If Cragen hadn't grabbed you, you would have hit the floor. Branson can do more with his feet and head than - we're not finished," he said as followed her into the cab that waited at the curb. "You're due to deliver in five weeks! If you won't think about yourself - or me - think about the baby!"

"I told you - I'll start my leave after the verdict comes in on the Waters case, not before then."

"Where to," the cabby broke in.

"One Hogan Place," they snapped in unison glaring at each other.

As the cab weaved its way through the midday traffic, the couple looked out opposite windows, the silence weighing heavily enough to be stifling.

Liz focused on her breathing, willing herself not to give into the hormonal urge to burst into tears. She knew she didn't have the words to make him understand. As much as she loved Jack McCoy, as much as she loved the child she was carrying, she loved being a prosecutor as well.

When they had married eight months before, the plan had been simple: Move into Jack's place, spend the rest of their lives making each other happy, and support each other unwaveringly as they pursued the careers they both readily admitted they were obsessed with.

Children and any desire to have them hadn't been a thought either of them had considered.

When they arrived at the honeymoon suite of the Carlyle; exhausted, distracted by a day spent bailing the groom out of lock up and tracking down a judge to do the honors, neither of them had given their unspoken agreement to be careful a second thought…until the next morning.

Not until her unused diaphragm hit the bathroom floor.

"You got her going again," she softly said taking his hand and placing it on her belly. "This happens everytime you raise your voice… I think she's recognized it almost from day one. I swear she's become a Daddy's girl in the womb."

McCoy's face softened as the baby kicked against his palm, smiling in spite himself.

"I'm not going to apologize for wanting to protect my wife and child," he said quietly as he put his arm around her shoulders. "But I will admit, I regret upsetting you."

Liz nodded solemnly, placing her hand on top of his..

"Jack, I'm fine. You know Don and Lennie are pro's. Every time I have an interrogation, if Cragen's in the house, he observes. Whether it's his case or not. Maybe we should look at Don as a serious candidate for Godfather - he's as attached to this baby almost a much as you are."

McCoy knew she was right. McCoy had seen for himself how swift Cragen's response had been to Branson. If Cragen hadn't been trying to restrain Branson, as well as keep Liz from falling, McCoy had no doubt the suspect would have been subdued in record time. He knew he owned Cragen big time and made a metal note to check in with him later in the day.

Ever since he'd learned of the pregnancy, he felt himself becoming increasingly concerned about his wife. Her safety, her health, as well as her happiness. They day she came back from the doctor's office he'd known before she could say a word. Truth be told, he'd known the moment he saw the diaphragm on the bathroom floor that father hood was in the not too distant future. He found himself startled - simply because he hadn't really thought of the reality of starting a family before - and surprisingly unalarmed.

The biggest concerned he'd had through the pregnancy was his fear of anything resembling a repeat performance of his own childhood.

He knew from discussions between his mother and aunt, as well as other whispered conversations well passed the bedtime of the McCoy children, John James McCoy Sr. hadn't always been a brutal abuser that terrorized his wife and children. His mother talked about a loving man - kind and charming during their courtship - who changed after marriage. Who became more violent due to his plunge into the world of alcoholism, as pressure at work increased and with every new obligation at home.

McCoy swore it wouldn't happen to him. He knew Liz wouldn't tolerate the life his mother had. In a way, that thought made the future almost a relief. Maybe that was what had his attraction to her so intense. Her sense of self, her unflinching fearlessness that at times, made her close to reckless, yet assured him if he was ever foolish enough to treat her badly - whether with another woman or the back of his hand - the first time would with out a doubt be the last.


	4. White Russian, Hold the Liquor

"…no, I'm sorry-" the intern was saying as he walked into his office.

McCoy reached for the pile of pink message slips on his desk, hearing the frustration in Diana Hawthorne's voice mount as he listened to her end of the telephone conversation.

"You have the wrong office," she announced abruptly. "This is _Jack _McCoy's office - in Major Felonies. You want _Elizabeth_ McCoy in Sex Crimes…I'll transfer you."

Hawthorne slammed the receiver down as she gave him an exasperated look.

"Tell Liz I'll pay the court costs for her to take 'Donnelly' back. It's one thing when someone calls for her to make an appointment or notify her of a motion hearing. When they call up here livid because of a botched interrogation…"

McCoy's amused expression faded as the phone rang again.

"McCoy….right away Adam," he said leaving his chair as he put the receiver down. "Should the caller was William Branson's attorney?'

The slender blonde nodded as she eyed him suspiciously.

"If you know that, then it must be true," she gasped. " Oh, God. You really hit a suspect, Jack? If you're on your way to see Mr. Schiff, maybe I better tell you now how much I've enjoyed working with you the last six months."

McCoy flashed her a sheepish grin as he walked out his door and towards the new DA's office, mentally gearing up for the verbal trip to the wood shed he was about to take.

Schiff was in no mood for any kind of double talk. The older man stared at him intently, much like McCoy had seen him do before cross examining a defendant during a trial.

"You told me once,in the not so distant past, you wanted to be a police officer. Maybe you've forgotten the road you chose instead. Assistant District Attorneys' _assist_ this office in prosecuting criminals, they _don't _manhandle suspects," Schiff said sternly." You were supposed to be interviewing a suspect in an arson case - not assisting the police in restraining a suspect."

"If you want to fire me for keeping that animal from-"

Schiff silenced him by raising a hand.

"I don't want to hear it," he said wearily. "I just spent an hour hearing not one, but two versions of a story I didn't want to hear at all. Captain Leach at the 1 6 already reprimanded Detective Cragen for leaving the department open to charges of police brutality and your friend Norm Rothenberg gave me the defendant's version - the one where you tried to kill the man. I don't even want to think about what your version is going to sound like."

"Cragen doesn't deserve a reprimand. He didn't -"

"I _said_ I don't want to hear it," Schiff snapped. "let Cragen worry about Cragen. The less I know about your antics the better. If you want to throw away your career fine, but you're not going to take mine with you. If Branson wants to go after you either criminally or in civil court, you are on your own."

Before McCoy responded the intercom buzzed and Schiff's secretary announced the arrival of Elizabeth McCoy. McCoy's eyebrows raised questioningly as Schiff told her to sent Liz in once McCoy left the office.

"Since it's obvious you can't control yourself in matters concerning your wife, I'm going to solve the problem for you," Schiff declared. "Elizabeth is far enough along in her pregnancy that if I pull rank and site liability issues to her remaining on the job, she will have no legal recourse, so that's what I'm doing."

"Adam, don't punish Liz because of any bad judgment you perceive there to be on my part," McCoy began, feeling guilty knowing he had indirectly pushed Schiff into a decision his wife was going to be angered and hurt by, yet knowing he'd be a hypocrite to even think about questioning it.

"Oh, I see. You're doing such a good job making decisions today you want to tell me how I should make mine," Schiff retorted. "If I were you Jack, I'd concern my self with cutting a deal on the arson case, finding good civil attorney for the lawsuit Branson's sure to file, and thinking of a way to deal with your wife when she finds out she won't be trying Evan Waters."

"Since you're the one firing her, maybe you should be-"

"It's leave, not termination."

"Be that as it may, she's going to see it as a dismissal," McCoy warned, "and Liz as been known to want to kill the messenger."

Schiff gave McCoy as rare smile.

"Oh she may _want _to kill me, Jack. But she won't have the opportunity or the means - not here. She will however, have both at home. Besides, I'm not the one that brought this to fruition. I may be the messenger - but you my boy - you go home to the woman."

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"Lady, the Piggily Wiggily's down the block,"the bartender said smugly.

Cragen looked up from his drink, as surprised by the order as the bartender was.

"Oh for God's sake," Liz said with distain as she propped her swollen body onto the barstool. "you use half and half to make White Russians. If you don't have any whole milk, just bring me some of the half and half."

Liz met the bartender's stare, silently daring him to set her off. Grudgingly he moved towards the mini fridge behind the bar and removed the carton of half and half.

"Liz, you really-"

"If you're going to say 'I really shouldn't be here' you're wrong. I heard you lied to your captain about Branson," she said quietly. " I appreciate what you did more than you can know, but it's wrong. Jack wouldn't want you to put your career in jeopardy to save his. Neither would I."

Cragen shook his head and he ordered another vodka.

"If we had had two officers in there, Jack wouldn't have had a chance to jump in. I should have had Van Buren stay."

"Don, it wasn't your fault," she said flatly as she picked up her glass. "Why Jack was even there, is beyond me. Besides, I could have handled myself better with Branson. When I finish this, I'm going to see the Captain myself-"

"Liz don't," he said sharply. "really. The Captain just chewed on me. Nothing in my file, no suspension - just a verbal warning. He saw the arrest report. Just confirm Branson went after you when you're asked. The story Branson's giving, only his lawyer's buying it. If you and Jack leave it alone, it'll go away. If you push, thing your husband 's frecking law degree will be good for is a diaper, after he's disbarred."

Liz snickered motioning to the bartender for a refill.

"Better his than mine," she said softly.

"Trouble in paradise," Cragen joked, his smile fading as he looked into her bloodshot eyes. "Liz, what's going on?"

Cragen sat and listened without comment as she described her meeting with Adam Schiff. He had worked with Liz McCoy, long before her marriage to Jack McCoy. When he had been assigned to SVU, one of the few positives was that he would be working with a ADA that he knew was committed to the rights of victims, yet could detach herself enough to build strong, winnable cases against their attackers.

He knew it would be difficult, if not impossible, to find another ADA with that combination. Yet, like McCoy and Schiff, he was a man of his generation. Though he didn't know Jack McCoy well, he knew his reputation for being a bit of a hot head. The few times they had crossed paths, Cragen could see that reputation was well deserved.

Cragen didn't know how a man like McCoy had stood for his wife working during her pregnancy, as long as he had. When Cragen's wife had been pregnant they too, had numerous battles about her continuing to work, as a flight attendant. The slight chance of a hijacking had kept him up the nights she was at work. Being an ADA in the Manhattan's sex crimes bureau held even more realistic dangers. If Liz had been his wife, Cragen might not have stopped with the few well chosen punches McCoy had.

"…so as of today I start my leave. Whether I like it or not," she said, her voice now carrying a bitter edge.

"Doesn't the Waters case begin in three days? Eighteen rapes and ten murders, it's going to be an important case. Probably should have been assigned to major felonies to start with. Whose taking the case?"

"Oh you'll love this," she said pausing for effect. "While I'm watching my gut get bigger and wondering what my feet look like, my dear husband will be trying a case I spent six months building."

"What?"

"You heard me. We both know how driven Jack is when it comes to wining at trial. He's not exactly known for being delicate with defendants or witnesses. It should be fun for both Jack and my victims when he preps them for trial."

_What the hell is the DA thinking? This gives a new meaning to irreconcilable differences…is Schiff trying to move these two closer to divorce than they already are_, Cragen wondered. Everyone in SVU knew the coo this case would be - for the team that found the perpetrator - as well as the attorney that successfully prosecuted him.

Cragen chose his words as carefully as he would his steps in a mine field.

"Sad as it is, when you return in a few months, they'll be another purp just a vile as Evan Waters to convict."

Liz pressed her lips together, feeling them begin to quiver. She impatiently ran the back of her hand over her eyes, determined not to cry.

Cragen saw her dismay and put a arm around her shoulders. A gesture meant to comfort and reassure her that instead, brought a reluctant sob from his colleague.

"Liz, what is it?"

"Nothing…it's my stupid hormones," she said unable to stop the steady flow down her cheeks. "God, this is embarrassing. How did my mother do this five times - I'm not even going make it through one pregnancy!"

Cragen knew how emotional his own wife had been during her pregnancy, he also knew how out of character this kind of public display was for Liz. He moved off his barstool, embracing her completely.

"Liz this is more than hormones. I don't want to push you, but if you need to talk…"

Liz nodded as she struggled to regain her self control.

"No wonder you made detective so fast. Nothing gets buy you, Don," she joked as she took the offered handkerchief.

"Just call me Sherlock," he said as they both chuckled. "What's really going on Liz?"

"You're going to think I really am the heartless bitch people say I am."

"Never."

She smiled weakly up at Cragen amazed she was about to say what she hadn't said to her husband, her best friend, or even her mother.

"I know I'm supposed to be happy. Happier than I've been before. A new marriage to the kind of man most women only dream about marrying, a healthy baby just weeks from being born…."

"But you'd rather be in a interrogation room or in courtroom trying a serial rapist," Cragen offered.

Liz grinned as she laughed out loud while she nodded.

"More than anything," she replied, trying to catch her breath.

"Liz, given what you do, I think that's understandable. I mean, it takes time to adjust to being a parent.Iit doesn't happen over night."

"I understand that. But, Don. I put off this leave until the last minute. If Adam would have let me work until my water broke, I would have."

"I'll admit, it's been hard watching you keep going, this long," he confided, nonchalantly moving the ash tray out of her reach. "Call me a chauvinist pig, but I don't enjoy seeing pregnant women harassed by low life scum. But everyone has to pay the rent - even hot shot ADA's."

"And they say women are the weaker sex," she said with a chuckle. "I know, it's your upbringing. Jack's too. If I really thought it would only be a few months, maybe I would handle it better…."

"You're expecting complications," Cragen asked with concern.

Liz shook her head vigorously.

"No, no. Not the kind you mean. I just…Don you know how it goes. You go out on leave. Then the baby comes. Somehow a lot of women never seem to make it back to their careers. The problems with daycare, getting attached to the baby, not to mention the expectations that people have…. "

Cragen listened carefully, trying to hear what hadn't been spoken.

"You're saying you think this will be permanent? Liz, as long as I've known you, you've been an unstoppable force. No one can stop you from going back to work, if that's what you want. No one except for you."

Liz lowered her eyes, as she gently rubbed her belly.

"I know that," she said candidly. "I realize Jack is an easy target. He makes himself one, when he pulls a stunt like the one he pulled today. But I know it's my decision. I just thought it would be so much…..I don't know... clear cut, so much easier. I saw how smart my mother was, how she chose to sacrifice her dreams for the family. I worked so hard in law school, I swore it wouldn't be like that for me. But now…"

"Now?"

"Now I feel like I'm seventeen again, "she said bluntly. "God, I used to judge those girls - the ones that got pregnant at senior prom - the ones that had full scholarships to Ivy league schools and threw it all away on one night with their high school sweetheart. I feel like I turned around and did exactly the same thing . That once the baby comes, no matter how hard I try, the life I thought I had is going to be gone forever."


	5. And Baby Makes Three

By the time he arrived home it was almost midnight. After his meeting with Adam Schiff, McCoy found himself playing catch up. First, he'd returned to the 16th precinct to complete the interview with the arsonists, then back to Hogan Place to unsuccessfully meet with his wife regarding the SVU case that had been unceremoniously dumped in his lap. When he realized Liz had left for the day, McCoy had gathered the preliminary files from her assistant and worked through dinner with his intern and Liz's second chair hoping to get up to speed on the Waters case.

Although it was a case most ADA's would have sold their souls for, McCoy would have gladly had bipass his desk. First, because his case load was already keeping him at the office later than he liked. It would have also liked to avoid the nagging sense of guilt he felt, knowing that the benefits his career would receive from winning it, rightfully should have gone to the person who had laid the ground work for what was sure to be a quick guilty verdict.

Part of him had wanted to confront Adam Schiff - to demand his motives - for assigning him the case. But common sense won out. McCoy knew Schiff well enough to be certain things weren't as they appeared. Schiff hadn't assigned him the biggest SVU case since the Eastside rapist out of spite. He'd done it because EADA Ben Stone was already in the middle of a triple murder trial that involved the Five Families. Schiff did it because this case had to be won if he hoped to win re-election in the fall and McCoy had not only a reputation for wining, but access to the former lead prosecutor that would quicken the cases transition from SVU to Major Felonies.

As he set his satchel by the coat rack he smiled, his eyes resting on the bottle of scotch and glass that were waiting for him on the coffee table. A handwritten note propped up by the bottle. He laid his suit coat and tie beside him on the sofa as he sat down. He closed his eyes a moment, pleased he would avoid the shouting match he had anticipated.

As he reached for the bottle, he looked around the room, lit only by the street light outside the apartment building. In the corner of the living room were moving boxes, stacked neatly and labeled. The hall, bedroom, and kitchen had similar piles. Although the original plan had been to stay at McCoy's one bedroom, just a short walk from Centre Street, the need for a nursery had made a move to a larger place more immediate.

Although the housing situation had created a need to financially tighten their belts, McCoy was beginning to look at the move to the first place he and his bride had found together, with anticipation. Although it would mean a significant commute, he and Liz had been fortunate in finding a small house in a the beach community of Ocean Beach on Fire Island. While a little more than an hour's ride on the bike during commuter hours, the location was right, as was the price.

The beach community had a small town feel to it as well as a school district with an exceptional reputation. McCoy's own up bringing still left a bad taste in his mouth. Early on, McCoy had made his feeling known about raising their child in a church he felt nothing but cynicism towards. The idea of raising his child away from a city that was even more overcrowded than Chicago, made a commute seem like even less of a sacrifice to make.

He picked up the glass along with the note. As he brought the drink to his lips his sat up with a jolt.

_Jack,_

_Liz gave me her key. Asked me to find you. Took her to Manhattan General. She's in labor. Come ASAP._

_Cragen_

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"Not M A C C O Y," he snapped. " M C C OY."

"When was she brought in," the Charge Nurse asked unruffled by the frantic father to be.

"I don't know ," he nearly shouted in exasperation. " I left her at three…got home at…listen how many pregnant women named Elizabeth McCoy have been admitted in the last six hours?"

"…_**where is that …miser….able son ….ofa**__**bitch!?!**__**"**_

McCoy followed the sound of the slightly crazed shriek he knew only too well. By the time he took his place at her bedside the last contraction had ended and Don Cragen was massaging the hand Liz had just released, as the nurse slipped her another sliver of ice.

"Nice of you to join us counselor,"Cragen said trying to keep his tone light.

"Sorry honey," he said kissing his wife's forehead while he took her hand. "as soon as I saw the note-"

"I'm just glad you're here," she said softly. "The person you really owe an apology to is Don. We were at _Maclachy's_ when my water broke-"

"_Maclachy's_ - why were you in a dive like-"

"The point is," she interjected, knowing it would only be another few minutes before another contraction made reasonable conversation impossible. "Don didn't want to just leave me alone in the ER."

"Of course not," McCoy said turning to the other man. "Detective 'thank you' doesn't even begin-"

"No thanks necessary, counselor. I'm sure you'd have done the same thing, in my place. Ah, the thing is…I had no idea you two planned to have the first baby naturally - ah - without Liz here having an epidural," Cragen said as causally as he could, giving McCoy a 'what were you thinking' look of astonishment.

"That was Liz's decision, not mine," McCoy said, immediately understanding the other man's unspoken concern. "If she's had a change of heart, I'd be more than-"

"Come on you guys, you know what they say about the effects of the mother taking drugs and the way it can effect the baby," Liz said wearily. "Don, do you have my briefcase?"

Cragen nodded as he reached down.

"Right here."

"You really are a life saver. If she was a boy, we'd have named the baby after you," she joked. "Jack the rest of the files on the Waters case are here. In the morning-"

"Liz, I just spent the last six hours with Diana and Meryl. You don have anything to worry-"

"Oh God, another one," she gasped clutching McCoy's hand.

"Ah, gotta go," Cragen said hastily making for the door. "good luck Liz, counselor."

"The victims…you need to-,"she gasped.

McCoy watched as the other man sprinted out the door, suddenly feeling like his hand had been pressed into a vice, as he felt her finger nails inadvertently dig into his palms.

"Forget the case," he exclaimed. "just relax-"

"Son… of …a …bitch.." she panted neither of them sure she meant the pain or her husband.

"Liz, focus on me," he said as he racked his mind to remember the Lamaze training they had begun a few weeks before. "find your focal pint and concentrate on your breathing-"

"_**YOU find your focal point…. If you… re…re…really love me…find…me …some…DRUGS!"**_


	6. Cira 12 l 80: The Jacket, my Version

_**Cira December 1980:**_

Elizabeth McCoy took extra care in closing the nursery door. Young Rebecca Eileen McCoy had spent most of the night either fussing in her mother's arms or crying in her crib, due to the arrival of baby's first tooth. Although the teething ring her mother gave her temporarily eased the pain, tiny Rebecca had learned quickly the best way to find herself in Daddy's arms, was to fuss and make other attention getting sounds.

Unfortunately, Daddy couldn't hear her cries from the other side of the Brooklyn bridge.

Daddy arrived home just before ten thirty. After delivering his closing remarks in the Waters case, Jack McCoy was trying to prepare for another complex case that would begin the following week. Once home, he tried to give his exhausted wife the relief she deserved, but by midnight he was down for the count, leaving mother and daughter to fend for themselves.

As she sat down at the kitchen table, Liz picked up the morning paper as the taste of her first cup of coffee slowly brought her back to life.

**_Flood Gates Open in Waters Case: Guilty Verdict in Record Time in Record Breaking Case_**

Liz read the _Times _article with a mixture of pride and regret. Pride in the fact her husband had not only won a guilty verdict on all counts on the multi-victim case of brutal rapes and murders in record time, but also in the fact it looked certain the judge and jury would go along with McCoy's demand for the death penalty to be applied. The regret came from not being able to secure that verdict herself, as well as from not being able to be in the courtroom to see McCoy's victory when the verdict had come down, the previous afternoon.

In the time she had been away from the DA's office, Liz hadn't had time to be bored. With the baby coming five weeks early, there had been added precautions when the baby was able to come home. Then there was the move from Manhattan to Fire Island. A move included a comedy of errors starting with trying to squeeze in the contents of McCoy's apartment, as well the items from Liz's storage unit, into a one thousand square foot cottage. By November the place finally had a sense of order about it - just in time for the announcement by both of their families - that the couple would be visited Thanksgiving weekend.

_Talk about the Thanksgiving from hell,_ she thought grimly as she recalled the gathering of seven adults that included her widowed mother, her only surviving sibling after Vietnam - wheel chair bound - McCoy's younger brother and sister, his widowed father - wheel chair bound and dependant on an oxygen tank. Not to mention a three month old with colic.

Between her mother's constant quest to teach her daughter the 'right' way to run a household, bake a turkey, and care for a baby and John McCoy Senior's unwavering attempts to find a scotch bottle, as well as a pack of cigarettes, and his unending pressure on Jack to push for advancement in the DA's office, it was a miracle the four days of 'quality time' hadn't ended in a disownment, divorce, or death.

Liz glanced at the clock on the kitchen wall. It was a delicate clock that resembled the kind that once hung from street lamps in the previous century. It was a wedding gift from Danielle Melnick. Ivory patina covered the beveled glass. The black hands pointed to Roman numerals that indicated it was almost ten. She sighed heavily as she tried to decide if a trip into the city would be worth the trouble so late on a Friday.

As much as she hated the thought of waking the baby, it was four days befoe Christmas. Although the gifts for Chicago and Boston had been sent, Liz hadn't finished shopping for her husband. Neither his Christmas nor his anniversary gift had been purchased. She also hadn't gotten pictures taken of the youngest McCoy with Santa yet.

"What do you mean 'see you Monday'," Diana Hawthorne asked dumbfounded. " It's not even six thirty, Jack. I thought you wanted to go over-"

McCoy shook his head as he pulled on his gloves.

"I'll review the files over the weekend. Besides you're still an intern Miss Hawthorne. It's the weekend before Christmas, don't you have things to do and places to be?"

Hawthorne stared at McCoy as if he was from another planet. This couldn't be the man she had more heard more than one defense attorney refer to as 'Hang 'Em High' McCoy. The man that was as famous for his sixty hour work weeks as he was bedding his female assistants.

"I finished my shopping weeks ago so I could focus on the bar exam," she replied. "But, some of us interns are getting together tonight…down at _Clancy's_. Maybe you'd like to -"

"Thanks for the offer," he said as he started for the door. "but I can't. I'm meeting Liz at Macy's in a half hour. Becky's first time with Santa."

"Really," Hawthorne said puzzled. "I thought I heard you make reservations for _Le Rivage_ and the _Carlyle_ - not exactly places I'd expect to see a small child."

McCoy stepped back into the office, grinning like the cat who had caught the canary.

"Actually, having Becky along and the visit to Santa weren't part of my original plans, but it will make Liz even less suspicious," he confided.

Hawthorne listened with a mixture of surprise and envy, as her superior explained how he had spent weeks planning a secret celebration to mark the first anniversary of his marriage to Elizabeth Donnelly. Hawthorne couldn't help but notice the mischievous gleam in his eyes as he divulged the lengths he had taken to secure the room he and his bride had spent there first night as husband and wife in, as well as the favors he'd called in to get a reservation the week before Christmas at Manhattan's most popular French restaurant.

"..the hard part was getting her into Manhattan during the week," he said softly, as if divulging the plans for Star Wars. " I was still trying to work that out this morning when she called and said she was bringing Becky in today to see Santa."

Hawthorne unwittingly smiled. When she found out McCoy was one of the three attorneys she'd been assigned to work with, Hawthorne had already heard about his reputation for charming his assistants. Hawthorne found herself instantly mermerized by the attractive and experienced presecutor. She wondered if he'd ever considered wooing an intern, instead of an assistant.She been disappointed to quickly find he now only had eyes for his wife.

"But Jack, I thought you said Becky was cutting teeth? How are you going to keep her from crying through dinner-"

"Oh, I have _that_ covered, as well," he said proudly.

"What are you going to do," Hawthorne said sarcastically, "check her in with your coat?"

"Better. I've called in the big guns. Becky's not only meeting Santa tonight, she's meeting her Aunt Danielle."

Elizabeth glanced at her watch as she pushed her way through the crowd. Baby and diaper bag in one hand - three shopping bags in the other. Her watch said 5:52. By the time she made her way to the front of the store it would be after 6:00.

This was the first time she'd attempted any kind of shopping, other than grocery shopping, with her daughter. Between the train and taxi rides, not to mention the lines and the aisles packed with merchandise and people, Liz now knew what the term "hell on earth" meant.

There had, however been some bright spots in her day. One had been finding the new helmet McCoy had wanted in stock at the Harley Davidson store. The other being that she found Adam Schiff available when she spontaneously decided to pay a visit to her former boss.

She had McCoy's anniversary gift covered, now if only she had been able to find something for him for Christmas...

"What…? Becky baby, what do you have?"

Reluctantly Liz stopped, feeling something holding her back. She looked around, finally noticing the wad of green material clutched in the infants tiny fist.

"Come on baby, let go of the jacket…," she said gently as she tried to pry the seemingly fragile fingers apart.

As if speaking in another language, the dark haired girl looked up into her mother's eye, babbling incessantly as her grip tightened on the dark green jacket. People were moving around the pair, trying to move down the aisle.

Out of frustration, Liz tugged on the garment, only succeeding in pulling it off the hanger and into her own hands.

As she juggled her load and tried to place the garment on the hanger, she noticed the tag. The hooded jacket was on clearance - 75 percent off. It was a well made designer jacket with removable lining, pockets that zipped on the inside, and a removable hood. A practical piece of clothing - not too trendy or flashy like some designer pieces. Durable. Practical. Timeless.

Just the kind of jacket her husband had been looking for.

Liz smiled back at the baby as she glanced around the floor, looking for nearest cash register.

Maybe Mommy didn't know what to get Daddy for Christmas but baby's gift to Daddy was covered.

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	7. Dinner, Dancing, and Differences

_FYI: I know the canon has Diana as Jack's assistant in the mid to late eighties. That's why she's mentioned as a intern here. Not an oversight, just a bit early in the timeline for her to be his assistant. Since I really wanted to include he at this time, I used a bitof poetic license, as I will with others along the way._

The petite young woman in the dark wool coat and fluffy black hat rubbed her glove covered hands over her arms. Danielle Melnick looked at her watch for the seventh time in five minutes.

_Where the hell is McCoy_, she wondered, as yet another horse drawn carriage approached the front of the Carlyle Hotel near Central Park West.

_Why me…why am I the one standing in the middle of a snow storm on a Friday night, waiting for Smilin' Jack McCoy and family_, she asked herself. _Out of all the ex girlfriends, all the want to be ex's…nah, he doesn't ask them. Oh no….he picks on the Jewish girl…Yeah, the weekend before Christmas - that's it. He calls on me because I'm the only woman he knows that isn't singing carols, roasting chestnuts, or doing last minute shopping…that bastard suckered me into this because I'm a Jew…_

"Danielle - you're still here. Thank God, I was afraid you'd take off after fifteen minutes."

Melnick walked towards the tall figure holding a diaper bag and small bundle in his arms.

Melnick grimanced as McCoy grinned down at his friend and courtroom rival. Melnick took the bundle from his arms, the acidic reply she had on the tip of her tongue, forgotten as she looked down into the big brown eyes that so resembled McCoy's.

"Jack she's a doll," Melnick said softly as she pressed the bundle against her.

"We like her," McCoy quipped. "Danielle, I owe you. Thanks for agreeing to take Becky for the night. You can count on me being on time Saturday morning - nine a m and you're off the hook."

"Oh Jack, take your time," she said as the baby smiled back at her, sending a brust of warmth thorugh Melnick.. "It's going to be hard to give this angel back to you. Where's Liz?"

"I sent her into the hotel to drop off her bags and change into her dress. When I told her he baby wasn't coming with us, I thought she was going to call the whole thing off - then I told her you were watching Becky. Danielle - she told me there was no one else she would have trusted with Becky."

Melnick looked away, too embarrassed to let McCoy see the tears in her eyes.

"I'm touched Jack - now go. I'll see you Saturday. Come by after noon, so I can get to know this angel better."

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Before Elizabeth Donnelly became Elizabeth McCoy, she would bring a brown bag lunch four out of five days a week so she could afford the lunch special at_ Le Rivage_ on Friday's. She looked around the dining room of her favorite Manhattan eatery and then back at her husband.

"I wondered why you wanted to walk to the train station this morning, instead of riding the bike."

"You were so exhausted this morning, I could have told you I was flying into Manhattan and you wouldn't have cared," he teased.

"I can't believe you pulled this off. The hotel, the carriage ride over here, getting my evening dress out of the house without me realizing," she said with delight as she picked up the glass of merlot in front of her. " You realize we will be eating Becky's baby food for the next month, between the bill here and the one at the hotel?"

"I have dibs on the banana pudding," McCoy deadpanned.

"Fine - but touch the creamed corn and die," she retorted with a chuckle.

"Deal," he said as he took her hand. "God, you look beautiful tonight. Seeing you so relaxed and well… glowing, it's worth any cost."

Liz squeezed his hand as the waiter cleared the last of the dinner dishes. After each of them declined dessert the waiter departed. The jazz band in the lounge began playing old standards.

"Do you remember our first date," he asked softly.

_"Clancy's_ after the Sinclair case-"

"That wasn't a date," McCoy replied smoothly. "That was drinks with a colleague."

"You kissed me for the first time that night," she countered. "Do you kiss _all_ your colleagues when you go out for drinks?"

McCoy grinned sheepishly as they both laughed at the obvious answer.

"Well, not anymore," he said causing a new round of laughter to begin. "I meant the first time we spent the evening together as a couple?"

"Of course I remember," she began. "I talked you into that benefit for MacHenry House - the battered women's shelter-"

Liz paused, hearing a familiar tune coming from the bar and smiled knowingly at her husband as he stood up, holding out his hand.

Moments later they were dancing, McCoy bringing her back up from a dip.

"I can't believe you remembered the song," she said as she gently kissed his lips.

"_A Kiss to Build a Dream On_? How could I forget? I'll never forget that night, or that song, or how much you mean to me," he said as he reached into his pocket and placed the small blue velvet box her hand. "Happy anniversary, darling."

"But our anniversary is tomorrow. I -"

"Check you watch, it is tomorrow," he said as the music ended.

As the dance floor cleared Liz opened the box. She smiled, first at the three stone pendant, then up at her husband.

"They call it a mother's necklace," he explained. "The stone's are supposed to represent each child you have. Since Becky is our first, I added your birthstone and mine. Not the traditional way of doing it-"

"If I wanted traditional, I wouldn't have married you, Jack. I think it's time you took me to bed."

McCoy widened his eyes innocently.

"Are you sure? I mean, if you're tired ... I just thought you'd want to dance again, being our first night away from the baby-"

"I'd didn't say I wanted to call it a night," she whispered as she leaned against his shoulder. " I said I want you to take me to bed."

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McCoy checked his watch as he closed the door behind the busboy, who had taken with him the remains the couple's breakfast.

"It's almost ten. Maybe we better think about giving Danielle a call to see how Becky did last night?"

Liz chuckled as she patted the space beside her on the bed.

"I think you missed her more than I did. Danielle is wonderful with the children at MacHenry House. I'm sure if there were problems, she'd have called by now. Besides, we have the room until noon. I don't know which was better: Sleeping uninterrupted once we went to sleep or make love uninterrupted."

"How about doing both in a bed twice the size of our double," he added as he embraced his wife.

"I don't know," she replied thoughtfully. "at times, you seemed awfully far away last night," she said snuggling against McCoy as she ran her hands over the front of his robe.

McCoy chuckled as he pressed her against him.

"I'll just have to make a point of staying closer," he said as his eyes fell on the empty case on the nightstand that lay next to the bright orange packets. "Well, at least this trip, neither of us left anything to chance."

Liz glanced over her shoulder, following his gaze.

"After our honeymoon, I make it a point to keep my diaphragm no further than arms length if you're anywhere around," she said bluntly. "Santa's Village is only a cab ride from your leather couch."

McCoy felt his own face flush as he sputtered. "And where would our child have been while I was seducing her mother?"

"Knowing you, sitting on Fred the night watchman's lap," she shot back smugly.

"Cute. You think you have an answer for everything, don't you ?"

"Usually - if not - I make one up. You know, the way you taught me to do during an arraignment hearing," she teased.

"Alright, then. What's your answer for this," he retorted as he began kissing her neck. "I heard you stopped by Adam's office yesterday. Why didn't you stop by mine as well, when you were finished showing off our girl?"

McCoy paused as he felt her stiffen briefly and looked at her inquiringly.

"I still had to get to the Harley store before I met you," she said carefully.

"And," he pressed.

Liz hesitated, wanting to postpone this conversation long enough to keep from spoiling the few child free hours they had left.

"You told him you were ready to come back to work."

"Jack, I was planning on being gone six weeks. It's been almost eighteen," she said quietly.

"You've been counting the weeks? You're raising our child, not serving out a prison sentence."

Liz shrugged off the verbal slap and responded without hesitation.

"You stay home with an infant with colic for a few weeks and see if you still feel the same way."

McCoy sighed as he sat up. He knew this was coming. He couldn't blame her for wanting to escape the world of dirty diapers and colic. In the little time he'd spent at home, he knew himself how exhausting it was caring for a new baby. Still, part of him had hoped….

"You didn't have to sneak around… You should have told me."

"Jack, I was going to. After we took Becky to see Santa. But then, you surprised me and …. well …I figured there was no reason to start a debate last night…"she said as she ran a hand along the early morning stubble on his face. "Besides, it's not like I could hide it from you, even if I wanted to. If seeing me wearing a suit instead of a house dress didn't tip you off, the extra money in the checking account would. You know we need the money. Disability ran out last month and we can't live on credit cards forever."

"We're doing all right," he said stubbornly. "once Christmas is over-"

"Jack, come on. No one's saying you can't take care of your family. I'm saying why should we have to struggle when I can make a good salary-"

Even though Liz was handling the checkbook, he knew she was right. Between the mortgage, his own commute, and the unexpected expenses that come up with a new baby, any savings they started out with was gone. But the idea of leaving the baby with strangers, as well as having the mother of his child return to dealing with perverts and psychotics in SVU, troubled him more.

"Two thirds of which will go to child care, as well as the cost of commuting. Unless you plan to ride into work everyday on the back of the bike?"

"I said I told Adam I was ready to go back to work. I didn't say I was coming back to Manhattan. I asked Adam to recommend me for a position in the Suffolk county DA's office. It's closer to home. Becky won't spend as much time in day care."

McCoy nodded impatiently.

"I saw the job announcement. It's still in a sex crimes unit, isn't it?"

Liz opened her mouth you reply and stopped herself. It was the start of an argument they'd had too many times. Like the refrain of a popular song, a discussion each could recite from memory.

She resisted to urge to go through the usual litany of what an unreasonable double standard he had for her and their marriage. Instead, she reached for him, kissing him generously on the lips.

McCoy responded accordingly. He explored her mouth, as his hands explored the rest of her, until he finally broke the kiss.

"As much as I enjoyed that, it doesn't change anything," he whispered as he slipped her robe off of her shoulders.

"Agreed. You can bellow, cajole, and charm as much as you like. It's still my decision," she said, her voice shaky as he slowly traced a pattern of circles over her left breast.

Liz could feel her nipples hardened as her body responded to McCoy's skillful touch. While sex had always been a pleasurable experience with him, Liz found it especially gratifying since the pregnancy. The way he looked at her body - a body she knew had become more rounded, more stretched by the birth of a child. The way he touched her… she knew his ardor for her had only increased. Somehow he made her feel even more desirable.

"It's your decision," he said smoothly, "but…maybe we can reach some sort of agreement… something mutually satisfying."

She gasped as she felt his mouth replace his hand, sending a wave of desire through her.

"Can't talk me out of taking the job, so you think you can screw me out of it ,"she hissed as she closed her eyes, reaching under his robe. "Think again, counselor."

"You say that now," he said confidently as he reached between her legs. "Let's see what you say in an hour."


	8. Cira 8 l 81: Baby's first Birthday

Michelle Kates took the glass of scotch from his hand and headed towards the kitchen sink.

"I asked you to stay and baby-sit my daughter while I saw my sister and mother-in-law off on the ferry. I didn't ask you to stay to baby-sit _me_, Shelly."

"Well that's just too bad isn't it, Jack? It's just you , me, and a sleeping baby. So cut the crap and tell me what the hell you think you're doing?"

Kates saw her friend's gaze fall on the bottle of Dewar's. With a quick move, she had the bottle open and over the sink.

"Don't make me dump it, Jack."

McCoy glared at the woman he had known since his first year of law school.

"Damn it Shelly. Don't you have some felon's acquittal to work on? Why are you still here?"

"Because I don't like what I see. I may be a defense attorney, but I still spend quite a bit of time down at the DA's office. You're at the office more than Adam Schiff. When you're not there, happy hour at _Clancy's_ plays a close second. I know you love that little girl, Jack. I thought you loved her mother-"

"I'm not having an affair with Diana Hawthorne or anyone else. I'm offended I even have to tell_ you_ that, Shelly."

"Hey, if it acts like a duck, walks like a duck, etcetera,"Kates said without apology. "So there's no affair - great! Then I'll ask you again: What the hell do you think you're doing?"

McCoy moved into the sitting room, turning on the hurricane lamp beside the sofa. He motioned for Kates to join him.

"What am I doing? I'm trying to take care of my family. That's what I'm doing."

"You're never home, you're drinking too much, and you think you're taking care of your family? Jack, news flash. You won't _have _a family to take care of if you keep this up."

"You're not married, Shelly," he said impatiently. "You don't have a child to think about. You don't understand…Liz is putting in almost as many hours as I am - she may get home at a decent hour - but after she puts Becky down she's spends hours prepping for trial. Neither of us is able to give Becky the attention she deserves. If I can raise my conviction rate, when Belmont retires next month, I know Adam will offer the EADA position to me. That means more money, maybe enough to convince Liz to cut her hours-"

Kates shook her head in disbelief.

"Oh Jack. Not this again."

"Why not this again," he demanded. "And don't tell me because I'm living in the Stone Age, because we both know that's crap. Listen Shelly. You know neither of us planned on children. But now that we have Becky, we both have an obligation to be here for her. I know it's asking a lot. If Liz would just consider leaving sex crimes-"

"To do what,"Kates said bewildered. "Jack, you know that unit is her life. Even when she worked with you, Liz practically jumped at the chance to transfer there when she had the chance. It's her passion -"

"Funny, I thought her husband was supposed to be her passion," he countered.

"In need of an ego stroke are we Jack,"Kates asked flippantly. "well you came to the wrong place. You know damn well Liz adores you. She shouldn't have to prove it now. Besides, she's damn good at what she does-"

"A little too good," he said bluntly.

"What does _that _mean? Is your male pride wounded because her conviction rate shot up-"

"Don't be an idiot. She hasn't told you about the death threats, has she Shelly?"

"She's an ADA,"Kates shot back. " It comes with the territory."

"Not the way it does when you're a woman dealing with rapists and wife beaters. If she were in private practice or back in major felonies -"

"All right, I get it," Kates said gently, seeing the worry that clouded his face. "But killing yourself with work and scotch isn't going to make Liz safer. Neither is letting a star struck assistant follow you around like a lost puppy."

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When the sound of the front door slamming woke him, the sun light was streaming through the picture window in the sitting room. McCoy rubbed the sleep out of his eyes as he sat up. McCoy stood, trying to wok out the kinks from falling a sleep on the sofa, as he waited for his wife to return from her visit with a witness.

A glance at the grand father clock told him that is was just after nine thirty. Confused by the time and the unusually quiet home - by nine o'clock Daddy's girl usually was urging him to get up and play- McCoy opened the front door. He watched as his wife and child headed towards the beachfront.

By the time he had showered, shaved, and changed into jeans and a sweatshirt mother and daughter were speaking in hushed tones working on the beginnings of a sand castle not far from the water.

As McCoy approached the dark haired angel ran toward him, white paper bag in hand.

"Dadddddddddddee! Pay?"

McCoy scooped his child into his arms returning her hugs and kisses as she held the bag out.

"Daddddee's," she announced proudly.

"Thank you, baby. What are you and Mommy building?"

As his daughter pointed, McCoy sat down beside his wife, who continued the process of packing the small bucket with sand.

"Thanks," he said quietly Becky wiggled out of his arms and back to the task at hand.

"Becky managed to charm the guy in front of us out of the last cheese danish _Rachel's_ had left," Liz said as she handed Becky the bucket. "Okay Becky, show Daddy how you make towers with the sand and the bucket."

While the toddler focused her concentration of filling the bucket McCoy leaned in, keeping his tone even and low.

"You must have got in pretty late - Shelly left around ten. Why didn't you wake me when you came in?"

"Figured it wouldn't hurt if we both took a break."

"I should have been here for Becky. But you didn't have to stay out half the night to make your point. Even with the most difficult witness it doesn't take more than a few hours to smooth out the rough edges. Where were you?"

Liz started to meet her husband's inquiring gaze, then looked back towards the water. In the time she had known Jack McCoy, she had never had occasion to be untruthful with him. She thought about her impulsive trip to Manhattan the night before and flushed with embarrassment - almost as much embarrassment as Diana Hawthorne had shown when she opened her apartment door.

The youthful blonde's big blue eyes had widened in surprise. When Liz asked to come in, Hawthorne had obliged, her movements in no way resembling those of a person with any kind of foot or leg injury. When Liz called her on it, Hawthorne stammered something about ice and muscle relaxers that was so laughable, that Liz just looked at her dumbfounded.

"Diana, I don't know what the hell you think you're doing," she said flatly. "Well actually, that's not true - I _know _what you're _trying_ to do - I just can't believe how badly you're doing it."

"I'm not sure I like what you're implying, Liz," she said defensively. "If you're here because Jack was late-"

"Late to his child's birthday party. Diana, it's one thing if you want to try to get my husband into your bed. It's entirely another if you're deluded enough to think you are getting between Jack and his daughter."

From Diana's oh so innocent assertions to the contrary, the conversation had taken a juvenile and nasty turn. Name calling, idle threats - things that were unimaginable came from the usually dispassionate Elizabeth McCoy. Liz had found herself suddenly, shockingly, engulfed by a feeling that stemmed not only from feminine competitiveness, but maternal instinct.

She couldn't image bringing herself to repeat those remarks to the man who held her gaze.

"I did something stupid," she said finally, as she helped her daughter pack the moist sand into the bucket.

McCoy's expression shifted from one of curiosity, to the look of someone who'd been slapped in the face.

The pair sat in silence waiting until the toddler abandoned castle building, choosing instead to run towards a sea gull on the shore.

While McCoy followed the toddler with his eyes, a strangled voice said, "I'm not having an affair with Diana Hawthorne or anyone else. I don't know how you think that I'd-."

"I know-"

McCoy waved a dismissive hand, rising to move towards the toddler running after the bird, who was now heading into the surf. When he cut her off, his voice was almost inaudible.

"Who the hell is he, Elizabeth?"

"_He_," she said baffled as McCoy moved to scoop his daughter into his arms, just as water rushed to the shore from a breaking wave.

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McCoy swiftly strode passed the castle, that had begun to disinagrate as water engulfed it. Liz could see little hands wiping his eyes. She heard a little voice asking, "Wet? Eye wet?"

Suddenly realizing the meaning of her husband's question, Liz ran after him, finally catching up to McCoy as they entered the house.

"Jack you're wrong - I was with Diana - no one else," Liz admitted.

McCoy turned away from the play pen, as he set his daughter down.

"Diana who," he asked astonished.

Liz lowered her eyes as she wound the musical bear. Placing the toy in the hands of the now babbling toddler, she replied almost inaudibly.

"Hawthorne."

McCoy raised an eyebrow as he stared at his wife.

"Son of a bitch," he said softly, moving towards the kitchen.

"Jack, the baby-"

"I don't know whether to laugh or cry,' he said shaking his head. "Did you find out what you wanted to know? Did she tell you what you wanted to hear?"

"I never thought you were sleeping with her," she said as she sat at the small table.

McCoy chuckled humorlessly. He pulled his chair close to her, so the child in the next room wouldn't hear his reply.

"Really? After yesterday, I was under the impression you thought I was fucking everything in a skirt between Hogan Place and Centre Street."

"Wait a minute. You, no more than ten minutes ago, accused me of doing the same thing. I dare to leave the house for more than five minutes and you think-"

"You said you did 'something stupid'. I jumped to a logical conclusion, given the way you act every time I work with the woman. Besides - you said something stupid - not something certifiable. What were you thinking?"

Liz took a deep breath, wanting to snap back with a sarcastic retort, but knowing he was right. No matter how angry she was with him, going to Hawthorne instead of keeping it between herself and her husband had only serve to create more tension.

"I wasn't thinking," she said at last. " I was feeling. I was feeling angry that you weren't with Becky - weren't with us - because Diana manipulated you. I know you aren't sleeping with her, Jack. But I also know she wants you. She'd like nothing better-"

"Damnit, Liz. Do you think I'm an _idiot,_" he said impatiently. "She's a kid. She's starry eyed. I know that. Do you really I'd take advantage of that, as well as betray you? Do you trust me so little-"

Liz could feel the tears welling up in her eyes. Partly because she could see how much she'd hurt him, partly out of frustration at his inability to she what seemed to be right in front of him.

"This isn't about trust," she said imploringly. "Jack, I know you want the next EADA position. But my God, you're never home. When you are, you're exhausted. I know how much you're drinking here - I can only image how much -"

"Don't change the subject," he said bluntly. "You knew I was ambitious when you married me. You know why I want the Executive slot now. The subject is my ability to be faithful not-"

"Which I have no doubt of - when you're sober," she said undaunted. "Remember, I was your assistant. I know what happens when you've skipped lunch and have a liquid dinner-"

"If you think I value the vows we took so little, why the hell are you here," he snapped. "Why haven't you left the drunken womanizer you seem-"

"What would the point be in leaving when you're never here in the first place?"

"You know why I'm not here. You know why I want the EADA position," he retorted. "If you want me home more, you know what you can do to help make that happen."

Liz glared at him resentfully, as the music coming from the other room stopped.

"You're right, Jack. Quitting my job would fix everything. I didn't realize I went to Yale so I could clip coupons and buy my daughter's clothes at the thrift store."

She stood just as Becky began to fuss. McCoy met her glare as she took the dozing toddler from the play pen.

McCoy stared at the pale green linoleum. He knew she was right. Even with the salary increase the EADA position would provide, if they went back to one income, money would still be tight. If it were just the two of them, the cutbacks wouldn't seem so sever. But the one thing they agreed on was that their daughter should be free from want.

Reluctantly, McCoy moved to the counter and picked up the telephone receiver as he began dialing.

"Hello, Anna. Is Paul home?"

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"If you think-,"Liz began as she returned, abruptly stopping when she saw McCoy was on the phone.

She went in to the kitchen, quietly putting away items from the drain board while she listened to McCoy's end of the conversation.

"… that's good news, Paul. Listen, last week when we played basketball, you mentioned something about a position opening up at your firm?…Has it been filled yet?…Any chance you could swing by my office Monday with an application?….Great…No, no, just time to consider a change. I'll fill you in Monday…love to Anna," McCoy said as he replaced the receiver in its cradle.

"You're not serious," she said placing the last of the dishes in the cabinet as she turned to face him.

"The DA's office isn't the only employer of criminal attorney's. You know Paul brings home more than twice what I do, now that he's in private practice-"

"They call that combat pay Jack," she said coldly. "You do what you do in part out of a sense of morality not- "

"Are you saying Paul Koppel has no morals?"

She shook her head as she lean against the counter, eyeing him skeptically.

"I've never hidden my feelings about Paul. He's a nice guy - for a guy that works for the mob. He may be your best friend, but you yourself said, Paul was playing with fire when he decided to work for a firm that specializes in defending known gangsters. Do you honestly think you can go from prosecuting crime families to defending them?"

"I'll do what I have to give you and Becky the kind of life you both deserve, " he said stubbornly.

"I'm not Anna Koppel. I don't need a house in the Hampton's. I don't want _any thing_ paid for with mob money," she spat back at him.

"And_ I_ don't want you to run the risk of some wife beating rapist deciding to turn his sites on you, just so that we can make next month's mortgage payment," he shot back obstinately.


	9. Cira 2 l82 :Valentine's Day Massarce

_**February 1982:**_

The drizzle that had begun in Manhattan, had become a steady shower, by the time he reached the Ocean Beach station of the Long Island railroad. Glad he had taken the umbrella his wife had offered him that morning, Jack McCoy began the short walk from the station to his beachside home.

Although the couple had exchanged the traditional Valentine's gifts before he had gone to work, McCoy had felt the need to make the day more memorable for his wife. Although six months had passed since he had bluffed his wife into giving up her position in the sex crimes division of the Suffolk county DA's office, McCoy still felt a steady pang of guilt when ever he allowed his mind to revisit the morning she had admitted defeat.

Although his wife usually read him like a favorite novel, when McCoy had sat down twenty four hours later with an application for _Millbrook & Wisman_, Liz had pulled up a chair beside him. He looked up at her expectantly, almost giving up his scheme, upon seeing the look of disillusionment in her eyes. Eyes that were red and swollen.

_"I never thought I'd see you put a price on your integrity,_ _Jack."_

_"I'm sorry that's how you see this,"_ he said as he continued to fill in the blanks on the paper in front of him. "_I see it as providing for my family."_

_"You know, just because you sell yourself out, doesn't mean I'll stop working."_

_"Only a fool would think he could make you do anything you don't want to do,"_ he said quietly. _"If I get this position, I'll be home more. I'll make enough money that you won't have to work unless you choose to. If you want to keep practicing, I'd support you one hundred percent. Just not in the sex crimes bureau. You'd have the luxury of starting a practice, if you wanted to. Or working for legal aide."_

_"And if I told you where you could shove your 'support' and sontinued working with SVU,"_ she said half heartedly.

McCoy silently pondering his response before playing his triumph card.

_"I suppose there wouldn't be any doubt left as to what your priorities are. What you level of commitment is to raising our child."_

Liz shook her head slowly, looking at him with a look he would see often in the future. A look he would come to refer to as the 'martyred' look. A look that was a mixture suffering and superiority.

She reached out and took the application from McCoy hand, tearing it in two.

_"You got what you wanted. I gave my two weeks notice this morning. You win Jack,"_ she said in a whisper so full of loathing, McCoy lowered is eyes in shame. _"Happy now?"_

As he approached the house he moved a hand into the pocket of the olive green jacket, assuring himself the small box from Tiffany's hadn't fallen out.

In the six months since his wife had left the sex crmes bureau, McCoy had been anything but happy.

Jack McCoy knew his wife well. He knew there would be retribution for cornering her into a choice she didn't want. He had figured the couple's commitment to each other, as well as to their child, would be enough for him to ride out the rough patch.

Soon after she left the Suffolk county DA's office, Liz accepted a part time position with the corporate firm of _Healy and Dunham_ back in Manhattan.

Although she had spent most of her career practicing criminal law, her degree from Yale did open doors. As did recommendations from the former and current District Attorney's of two counties, her former college roommate who was now working in the Governor's office, and two prominent Yale law professor's. A welcome addition to the well known firm, her starting salary matched McCoy's current salary as a full time assistant district attorney.

The hours - twelve to four five days a week - made it easy to obtain daycare in Manhattan as well as to manage the commute. It also gave her ample time to reestablish her connections within the feminist communities both in Suffolk and New York counties, as well at the Manhattan DA's office.

Liz had held up her end of the deal to the letter. She had left the sex crimes bureau. She was spending more time than either of them had imaged she'd be able to with their daughter. Finances were no longer a pressing consideration for the couple.

In return, McCoy had cut his overtime down. To the point the he was none too surprised to learn he had been passed over for the EADA slot he had hoped to be offered. Diana Hawthorne's transfer to Robbery/Homicide had been approved. The rare times he did see her, he was cordial, but made a point of keeping any conversation with her on a strictly professional level.

Everything seemed to be back on track again for the couple. At least, from the outside. But McCoy knew better. While their sex life hadn't decreased in frequency, he sensed his wife's passion for him had. While she denied it the few times he had challenged her, at times he suspected her participation was more out of a sense of duty than desire.

As he unlocked the front door he hoped to, by the end of the night, correct that situation once and for all.McCoy hung his coat on the rack by the door, surprised by the stillness of the cottage. He checked both bedrooms, finding them empty. Puzzled, he went into the kitchen and noticed the note beside the telephone.

_Jack:_

_Will be home by ten. Took Becky to the rally with me. Picked you up a sandwich from the deli. If you change your mind, we'll be on the corner of Broadway & Amsterdam._

_Love you,_

_L._

McCoy swore softly, more out of disappointment, than anger. The note reminded him of the rally at the women's center Liz had been involved in planning for the past month. The date had completely slipped his mind - not making the connection - the theme of the rally being '_Love Hurts'_.

After cancelling their dinner reservation, he traded his suit and tie for a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt. As he made his way to the kitchen, McCoy flipped on the T.V., planning to see if he could find a game on to pass the time until his wife and daughter returned.

As he placed the corned beef sandwich in the microwave, he heard something that made him dash into the sitting room, as he turned the volume up on the television.

"…Mrs. Elizabeth McCoy, wife of Manhattan Assistant District Attorney Jack McCoy, was rushed to Manhattan General Hospital when the rally at Manhattan's first shelter for battered women, turned violent…."

McCoy listened intently as he moved to grab his jacket and house keys. He had flipped the set off and was almost out the door when the phone rang.

"McCoy," he snapped. "Sally, where's Becky? Is she….and Liz?…the news said a group of men stormed the rally?"

As he listened to Sally Bell's retelling of the event, his jaw tightened.

"…Branson," he said incredulously. "_William_ Branson - the son of a bitch Liz was supposed to try for that rape-homicide a few years ago?….Tell her I'm on my way… Sally - don't argue, just tell my wife not to leave until I get there."

By the time Jack McCoy had made his way back to Manhattan, he was soaking wet from head to toe. When he made the turn off of the freeway onto Broadway he wasn't sure which way to go. He was torn between heading down to the night court divison to beat the life out of William Branson - or at least to be damn sure the son of a bitch didn't post bail, going to Danielle Melnick's apartment to see for himself that his daughter was safe, and going straight to Manhattan General. With the urging of the cars behind his Yamaha, McCoy made the decision to head towards the hospital.

After being told by the emergency room charge nurse that Liz had been admitted for the night as a precaution, he found himself stepping out of the elevator just as Detective Lennie Briscoe moved to step in.

The pair looked at one another startled.

"She's all right counselor," Briscoe said, recovering enough to use the reassuring tone reserved for family members and victims. "Some minor cuts from when she fell, but-"

"Why do they want to keep her overnight," McCoy demanded.

Briscoe sighed, as he led McCoy down the hall towards his wife's room.

"Listen, you know how these doctor's are, McCoy. They see a chance to cash in a little bit on your insurance and-"

"Don't hand me that crap, Detective," McCoy said impatiently. "You and I both know what William Branson is capable of. How he even got back out on the street is beyond me."

"You can thank yourself for that one counselor," Briscoe snapped back. "After you tried to kill the guy and Donnie covered your ass, Branson's attorney was able to get the charges dropped. Completely walked all over the ADA that replaced Liz. You know McCoy, there aren't a lot of ADA's with your wife's skill or commitment to the victims in SVU - they drop like fly's down there - between the pressure from the DA to convict and the depravity they deal with-"

McCoy stopped abruptly, staring intently at Briscoe.

"If you think I am going to stand here and discuss my wife with you, you'd better think again, Briscoe," he said with contempt. "Now, if you are as interested in my wife as you seem to be, you'll save her the trouble of having to go through the chain of events one more time.What the hell happened at that rally?"

Briscoe shook his head as if dealing with an idiot, which of course, he thought he was.

"If you think I'm going to get in between you and your wife on this, _you'd _better think again," Briscoe said with equal contempt. "Liz is in 407 - she'll tell you what she thinks you need to know."

McCoy stared at the detective as the older man stepped into the elevator. Just as McCoy started to turn away, Briscoe stepped out, holding the elevator door open.

"Hey, McCoy? Not that you want to hear it, but a piece of advise? Unless you want to move one step closer to alimony payments, don't refer to Liz as 'my wife' when you go in there. If she doesn't verbally castrate you, one of her feminists friends from the shelter will."

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"When can I go home," Liz asked the slender redhead in the white lab coat beside her bed.

"Barring any unforseen complications tonight, tomorrow morning. The x-rays look good, no sign of internal bleeding so far. It's that nasty bump on the head that I'm concerned about - want to make sure it hasn't caused more than a mild concussion. Once we get your CAT scan results back, we'll know for sure."

Liz nodded carefully seeing her husband join the small group of women standing in the doorway.

"Any more questions?"

"Not from me. Doctor Rogers, my husband just arrived. Would you mind…"

The intern smiled reassuringly as he turned towards the door.

"Mr. McCoy? I'm Elizabeth Rogers, the resident on duty tonight."

McCoy listened as Rogers repeated the information she had given her patient.

"So you don't see any signs of any permanent injuries?"

"The bruises will heal in time - I don't predict any permanent scaring. The injury to her wrist - a hairline fracture - will heal as well. Her ribs are going to be sore for a few weeks, but they aren't broken. The only thing I want to be sure of are her CAT scan results. Otherwise, Mrs. McCoy should be as good as new in two to four weeks," Rogers said, handing him a business card. "If you have any more questions, my pager number is on the card. Call me any time, day or night."

"Thank you doctor," he said pocketing the card.

As the doctor cleared the room, McCoy touched Sally Bell on the arm and motioned for her to follow him down the hall.

"Sally," he said concentrating on keeping his tone low and even. "I want to know want happened from the minute Branson showed up at MacHenry house up to the moment I walked in her room."

Sally Bell looked up at her former lover weary and hesitant. Liz had filled her in on the reasons for her accepting her new position. She knew the couple she thought had one of the strongest marriages she'd seen was having a rocky time. The last thing she wanted to do was add to it.

"Sally," he said loud enough to jar her from her thoughts. She looked back up at him and his tone softened to almost a whisper. "Sally, I know Liz has told you to tell me as little as possible. But, Branson has killed before. Liz may not believe it right now, but she is everything to me. Don't make me beg."

McCoy stood at her bedside holding her hand as she slept, the events Sally Bell had reluctantly described replaying in his head.

The rally was just getting started when a group of maybe a dozen men showed up at the shelter, heckling and cajoling the participants. Nothing the organizers hadn't expected.The rain had started to come down in buckets, causing all involved to move into the canopied area that had been set aside for speakers and the press. Liz, being one of the rally organizers, had been on her way to the podium, when Branson had recognized her.

A heated exchange ensued, neither one backing down. Before security had a chance to get the men out of the area, someone lit a pipe bomb. In the confusion and panic people were thrown together. Liz and Branson found themselves eye to eye. That's when he smacked her - the first time.

"Jack," she moaned softly as her eyes opened. She looked at the bedside clock and then back at him. "It's late…Becky…you have to call Danielle-"

McCoy nodded.

"Did that hours ago. I spoke to Becky myself. She's fine. She doesn't know what happened to you. JShe just thinks Danielle invited her to stay the night. I'll get her before Danielle goes to work in the morning. How are you feeling?"

"Sore…my ribs…and tired…"

"Dr. Rogers gave you a muscle relaxer, it'll make you drowsy. Who do you want me to call at _Healy and Dunham_?"

Liz chuckled softly.

"Who cares?"

"What? I thought you did," he said wondering about the effects of her medication. "I know you feel about your work-"

"Work? This is play….I play with numbers now…in corporate law there are no victims…just numbers," she said as she tried to sit up. McCoy moved to help her and she waved him away. "Just call the secretary. There's nothing life and death going on over there."

"Dr. Rogers was back about an hour ago. Your CAT scan looks good. You're being released first thing in the morning," he said trying to chance the subject.

"Great. How much did Danielle and Sally tell you," she asked as she reached for the glass beside on the bedside table.

"I know you and William Branson got into it. There was a disturbance that gave him the opportunity to smack you around."

Liz nodded, setting the glass back, as she closed her eyes. After a few minutes she opened them again, surprising McCoy who thought she had gone back to sleep. When she opened her eyes she looked him directly in the eye.

"He had gotten some poor fool to marry him. When she figured out what a mistake she made, she went to the shelter for help," she explained. "Branson was sure I'd know where she was. Since I was an organizer, he assumed I'd have access to that kind of information. When I told him to go to hell, he grabbed me - told me he'd get it out of me one way or another."

"You wanted me there," he said miserably. "If I'd gone, been with you-"

"Jack," she said sharply. "I'm not telling you this to make you feel guilty about not going to the rally."

McCoy waited.

"William Branson is back out on the street for the same reason fifty percent of the perpetrators of domestic violence are back on the street. They're aren't enough seasoned prosecutors in sex crimes. If I'd handled that case he'd have still been in Sing Sing."

McCoy sighed heavily. He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out the small blue box that was still damp from the rain.

"Elizabeth, you could have been killed tonight. It's Valentine's Day, can we do this in the morning?"

Liz stared at the box for a long while before opening it. The heart shaped pendant was covered in tiny diamonds that sparkled in the dimly lit room.

When she looked back at him there were tears in her eyes.

"I know you thought I went to sex crimes because of our relationship. Because I was your assistant and we started sleeping together," she said quietly.

"I believe your exact words at the time were 'do you want a lover or an assistant'," he said tenderly.

"That was part of it. When the opening came up the timing was perfect. But I would have gone there eventually, even if we hadn't met. Your mother was a victim of domestic violence. She was lucky enough to live through it. So were you and your siblings. Jack, didn't you wonder how I knew what happened to you that night we first went out?"

McCoy felt himself shiver as a sense of dread spread through him.

"I thought your training when you volunteered at MacHenry-"

"That was part of it. The other part is, I saw it first hand."

"Liz, you told me your father adored your mother-"

"He did," she said firmly. "He also adored his younger sister, my Aunt Eileen. My father was a gentle and loving man, Jack. I was an army brat. My father had high standards, but he treated his family as something precious. My Uncle Clifford did not.

"My father tried to get her to leave him. But, Eileen thought if she was a better wife, he'd change," Liz said bitterly. "You and I both know that never happens."

McCoy nodded, remembering his mother's sister who begged his mother to take the children and leave McCoy's father, only to be met with similar resistance.

"When we were in Boston, my father threatened my Uncle many, many times. They came to blows more than once. But, then we'd move and…"she said softly her voice trailing off.

She ran a hand across her face to wipe the tears off of her cheeks.

"When we came back from my Dad's tour in Berlin, it was for Eileen's funeral."

"How'd he do it," McCoy asked somberly.

"He threw her down some stairs - of course the police report said she fell," she said dryly spitting the last word out. "God knows what he did to her before that. The funeral was closed casket. My father spent months trying to gather evidence…hired detectives…in the end that bastard got away with murder."

"Elizabeth, I am sorry. Truly sorry. But, putting yourself-"

"NO, Jack," she said coldly as she put the box back in his hands. "No more. No more concern, no more guilt, no more threats. Take the necklace back. We can't afford it. I'm calling Adam as soon as I'm healed. I'm going back to work. In Manhattan. In sex crimes. No deals. No compromises."


	10. Cira 3 l 83 The Way We Were

_**March 15, 1983**_

"I swore I wasn't going to cry this time,"Shelly Kates said as she dabbed at the corner of her eye.

"That man is a moron," Melnick added as she placed a bottle of wine in the other woman's outstretched hand. "Everybody knows he and Katie belonged together."

"You're just saying that because Katie's Jewish and she's got more hood spa than any," began Ruthie Miller.

"She's saying that because Hubble and Katie were destined to be together," Kates responded defensively. "Not only do they have a child together, they balance each other. Katie's is his anchor-"

"Shelly, you say that every time we rent it," Ruthie countered as Kates refilled her wine glass. "Forget the sentimental garbage like _The Way We Were. _Next time we do this, I'm bringing _Mr. Mom_. Now that's my kind of movie."

The two single women groaned as Miller turned to the woman beside her on the sofa.

"Come on Ruthie. Michael Keaton is no Robert Redford, "Melnick complained.

"Maybe not, but at least his character stays home with the kids. That gets me hotter than any of this star crossed lover's tripe."

Kates smirked as she rolled her eyes at Miller.

"What do you say Liz? Redford or Keaton?"

Liz continued to brush the moist Kleenex over her eyes that tears flowed freely from.

"At this point my choice would be _Kramer vs. Kramer,"_ she said as she reached for another tissue.

The three other women looked at each other, unsure as to whether their friend was joking. Kates motioned towards the kitchen as she smiled at Liz.

After the other two women had left the room Kates patted her hand.

"Shelly, you didn't have to send Danielle in to her own kitchen," she said trying to compose herself. "I'm just tired. I'm without an assistant right now. I stayed at the office last night trying to get ready for closing arguments Monday. I really should be going-"

"You didn't go home,"Kates said uneasily. "At _all_?"

"I picked up Becky from daycare and she stayed in my office until Jack came down and got her on his way home. I always keep a change of clothing there, just in case."

Kates suppressed a smile, knowing full well where Liz had acquired _that _habit from.

"What did he do this time?"

Liz shook her head as exchanged the tissue for her glass of ginger ale.

"Nothing. Really Shelly," said firmly as Kates expression changed from concerned to skeptical. "It's just this movie. God, It's so ridiculous …"

"Spill it, Liz."

Liz frowned as she sat back on the sofa, bringing her knees up to her chest.

"I used to think that was us," she said softly.

"Huh," Kates asked uncomprehending. "Who? You and Jack…you thought…"

"I told you it was ridiculous," she said flushing. "I know Jack's no Robert Redford and I'm _certainly_ no Barbra Streisand…"

"That's not what you meant is it," Kates asked quietly. "Two very different people…two people driven in their own ways…that are meant to be together?"

Liz nodded as her eyes began to well up again.

"How does _Kramer vs. Kramer _fit in?"

Liz laughed quietly in spite of herself.

"Maybe I just like Dustin Hoffman better than Redford or Keaton," she said weakly.

"Yeah, and maybe someone who didn't know you and Jack so well would buy that and let it drop. I've been so tied up with opening my new office, I haven't seen much of anyone the last few months. The last time I saw Jack was when he was opposing counsel in the Matthews case. That must be almost a year ago. You had just started back at the DA's office. I know he wasn't happy about that."

"No he wasn't," she replied remembering the night she had announced she would be asking DA Adam Schiff to rehire her.

When she approached Schiff several weeks later she could sense the distrcit attorneys discomfort. It had to be obvious to a man as sharp as Schiff that the couple was having problems. Liz knew he would be leery of rehiring her and having those problems brought into the DA's office.

Rather than threaten a civil suit or accuse him of discrimination, Liz reminded him of the drop in convictions in his sex crimes unit with the departure of several key ADA's during in previous months. She also reminded him that if he did rehire her, she had more than enough of the experience required to raise the conviction rate, significantly and quickly.

When she hadn't heard from the DA, she assumed her husband might have had something to do with Schiff's silence. Tension had grown almost unbearable between husband and wife before she received a letter, almost three months later, reinstating her as an ADA for New York county in the sex crimes bureau.

Kates nodded encouragingly.

"So Adam came to his senses and hired you. Did you ever find out what the hold up was?"

"My first day back, Adam came down to welcome me back. I asked him and he said he had wanted to wait until the Branson trial was over. He didn't want to put any more pressure on me, since I had to face the man as a victim."

Kates shrugged her shoulders remembering her friends assault at the women's shelter.

"Makes sense, Liz."

"Yeah , I know. I tried to make it up to Jack - I had been so sure he'd maneuvered Adam,as well as myself. After falling for the idea he'd go to work with Paul Koppel…well, let's just say I thought I was justified in being suspicious. When I found out I was wrong, I made a real effort to show Jack how sorry I was. How much I wanted to make things right…"

"But the damage was done,"Kates said, knowing Jack McCoy's arrogant pride ran just as deep as his charm.

"You know Jack. You know how he shuts down when he's hurt. Then my mother died after-"

"Liz, I had no idea,"Kates said sorrowfully. "I am so sorry. How long ago did it happen?"

"Just before Becky's second birthday… the end of July. I was a mess. Her house had to be sold, my brother had move in with us."

"Into your two bedroom? That must have been a huge change for all of you."

Liz sighed as she set her feet back down, leaning forward.

"Actually, it was a mixed blessing. Denny may be wheel chair bound, but Becky's almost three now. She's mastered all the important firsts: Walking, using the bathroom, talking. Denny's been able to help look after her when she's not in pre school, when Jack and I have to work late.

"As for the house, my father had left my mother in sound financial shape. In addition to what she already had, she had taken out a life insurance policy, knowing I would be the natural one to be Denny's care giver when she was gone.

"Jack and I decided to rent the Ocean Beach house out and move back to Manhattan. We spend so much time here anyway, it just made sense. We used what was left in the savings and some of my inheritance to put a down payment on a four bedroom house in Chelsea."

Kates sat back amazed.

"Wow. I blink and your whole life as changed! No wonder you and Jack are stressing out. Next you're going to tell me that you're pregnant again!"

Kates could see her friend's expression shift as she looked down at her hands. Kates silently swore, shocked at the reaction to what she had thought was simple humor. She touched Liz's arm.

"Liz," Kates asked softly.

"Damn it Shelly," she whispered. "we were so careful this time."


	11. And Baby Makes Four

When Elizabeth McCoy arrived home she could hear laughter coming from the dining room. She walked past the staircase and into the dining room where McCoy sat with his daughter and brother in law. Each of them with cards in hand, piles of varying sizes of animal crackers in front of them, and glasses containing a green liquid beside them.

"Hey, Liz! How'd it go at Casa Melnick,"asked lanky blonde haired man in a wheel chair. "Is Danielle still up for the theater Thursday or is she going to try to get out of a another date with some lame story about writing a closing?"

"Danielle said to tell you she will pick you up at seven sharp and that you better be wearing a tie this time," she said as she looked over her husband's shoulder.

"Mommy," the girl with the tight dark curls squealed as she jumped down from her chair to hug her mother's legs. "Daddy and Uncle Denny are teaching how to play poker!"

"I see," she said picking the child up. "Judging by the size of Daddy's winnings, maybe Daddy bet stick to darts."

McCoy shot her a look as he snickered.

"Who says you have to save your winnings," he remarked as he placed a cookie in his mouth. "what did you ladies end up renting?"

"_We Way We Were," _she said as she sat in her daughter's chair, holding the child on her lap as she inspected the green liquid. Liz flushed as she caught the amused glance exchanged by the two men. "What?"

"Liz, you've only rented that five times since I moved in," he brother teased."Becky's going to start calling Jack 'Hubble' if your not careful."

"Shut up and deal," she said dryly as she picked up the glass. "Dare I ask?"

"Kool aide," McCoy explained. "at least in Becky's glass. In honor of Saint Patty's day."

"That's Monday."

"Denny and I are getting an early start on the green beer."

By the time next the hand was dealt, Becky had given into sleep. Seeing his niece's head begin to fall forward, Denny Donnelly reached his arms out towards his sister.

"I fold," he said taking the sleeping child. "I'll put her down in the study while you two finish up in here."

After the electric wheelchair's hum could no longer be heard, Liz began gathering the cookies and glasses while McCoy picked up the cards.

"You would have tossed my stuff in the street if I didn't bother to come home for the night," he said bluntly as he followed her into the kitchen.

"I didn't plan it." she said as she finished loading the dishwasher. "I thought I needed another hour to finish up. I fell a sleep at my desk. When I woke up the sun was out. I called you as soon-"

McCoy shook his head.

"You told me that this morning. It still doesn't make sense," he said impatiently. "I've seen you work almost twenty four hours running on coffee and adrenalin. Elizabeth, I want to know what it is you haven't told me."

"What are you implying Jack," she said wearily as she closed the dishwasher.

"I'm not implying anything - I'm telling you - this doesn't make sense. You haven't been yourself in weeks. You're either too tired to make love or not feeling well. Now, you're starting to not even come home? Either you are trying avoid sex or something is wrong. Which is it?"

Liz looked up at her husband. She'd been waiting for the right moment to tell him about the pregnancy for almost four weeks. Between their trial schedules, minor emergencies with their daughter, and her own desire to remain in denial, she had stalled. She knew she was doing to him what she hated him doing to her. She couldn't shut him out any longer.

"Think about it Jack," she said quietly. "When was the last time I was either heaving or sleeping?"

"Well, you had the flu in November but-"he stopped suddenly as he instinctively stared at her belly. "Liz, are you pregnant?"

She swallowed hard as she leaned against the counter. She tried hard not to let her voice crack as she answered him.

"Yeah. Probably close to nine weeks, now."

"Oh Liz," he said as he embraced her. "Honey, I had no idea. I thought…."

"I know. I was pretty stunned when I found out. Dr. Delgado reminded me that it's been a while since I've been resized for a diaphragm. After the first pregnancy things aren't-"

"It doesn't matter," McCoy said as he wrapped a arm around her waist, guiding her into the living room. "I know we didn't plan this, but Liz, you've got to know how happy I am. To be a father again…Becky will be thrilled to have a brother or sister to play with."

Liz nodded solemnly as they sat down on the sofa. McCoy's pleasure turned to concern once more as he wiped a tear from her cheek.

"Liz, I know things have been… been difficult for a while. I understand why you're not happy right, but-"

"But what," she snapped. "but once the baby comes I'll feel differently? If you gave a damn about how I felt this wouldn't have happened in the first place. You promised me you'd talk to Dr. Delgado about a vasectomy after Becky was born - that's why I waited on having the tubal ligation-"

"Liz, I said I'd _talk_ to Delgado. I never said I-"

"DON'T PLAY WORDS GAMES WITH ME," she screamed at him, angry tears flowing down her cheeks. "I'm your wife, not opposing counsel! You _knew_ from the beginning how I felt about marriage and children! When I agreed to marry you, I thought…I thought it was understood…"

McCoy stared at her slack jawed, eyes wide with shock.

"It _was_ understood. Neither of us thought we wanted children _then_," he stuttered. " Elizabeth, I didn't intend for this to happen-"

"But it _has_ happened and I need to decide what I want to do about it."

"Meaning," he said suddenly deadly calm.

Liz looked away from his accusing stare. She knew her hormones were a mess, as well as that she was exhausted from the lack of sleep and weakened from her inability to keep food down. She knew what he was thinking but she was too upset to care.She gave him a few minutes to stew before she replied.

"Meaning, my professional life has been like a yo-yo the last three years. Things were just starting to settle down. If you think I'm going to let this pregnancy take me back to where I was six months ago, you're going to be disappointed, Jack."

"If you would give your _"I am Woman"_ mantra a rest for a minute, maybe you'd realize-"

" And maybe if you'd get over yourself and listen to me for once you could understand why-"

" Oh, I do understand," he said as if cross examining a hostile witness. "you never wanted to be a mother. You never wanted to be a wife. But the fact is Liz, even if you were Gloria Steinem herself, you wouldn't be able to change the fact you _are_ a mother. As far as being a wife," he sneered waving a dismissive hand. " you know how to change that and I sure as hell won't stand in your way."


	12. Cira 5 l 83 Something Smells Fishy

_**May 30th 1983: **_

"Your honor, Mr. Dosso is the son of known crime family patriarch, William Dosso Sr. His ability to elude the authorities-"

"Mr. Dosso's Sr. isn't the person accused of the crime, William Dosso Jr. is. My client should not suffer because of his father's alleged prior bad acts," Paul Kopell said smoothly, giving the prosecutor a slight nod.

"Your honor, this man is accused of brutally raping and beating a sixteen year old girl," Elizabeth McCoy countered. " Giving someone with his obvious connections to organized crime, anything less than a bail of one million dollars, would be like giving a free pass-"

"One million dollars? Mrs. McCoy has this charge confused with a capital murder-"

"Mrs. McCoy is _far_ from confused counselor," she snapped back.

"All right, enough. Both of you," the Honorable Harold Bradley snapped. " This may not be capital murder, but the brutality of this attack causes me great concern, Mr. Kopell. Bail is set at $500,000.00 cash or bond. Next case."

Once outside the courtroom, Paul Kopell raced to catch up with his opponent, tapping her on the shoulder as she pressed the button for the elevator.

"No hard feelings, counselor?"

Liz turned to face with a self satisfied smirk.

"Not on my part. I would have counted it as a win if Bradley set bail at $250,000.00."

The handsome face broke in to a good natured smile as he gave a slight bow.

"Should of remembered Jack's game - start high and settle in the middle. I suppose that holds for the count on the indictment, as well?"

As they stepped into the elevator Liz shook her head.

"Not after spending the morning with of the victim. The only deal I'm prepared to make on this is a guilty plea with a full allocution."

"What does he get in return?"

"I some discretion as to where he serves his time. Maybe upstate away from any enemies his father might have that would like to use junior to get some pay back."

Kopell frowned.

"I'll tell my client, but it isn't much of a deal. Maybe we can discuss it tonight before we set sail?"

Liz nodded dutifully as the doors opened. Kopell leaned down and kissed her on the cheek.

"We'll talk tonight. Tell that husband of yours not to forget the bait."

Liz smiled weakly as the elevator made it's way the sixth floor. The floor the court rooms of the trial part were on. As she made her way towards Part 66, she wondered how she had managed to let herself be talked into an evening on Paul Koppel's yacht.

_I'm almost four months pregnant_, she thought. _Why didn't I just telling Jack I was getting nauseous again?….Wouldn't have been far from the truth….Just thinking about a night on that boat, listening to Paul talk to Jack as if he were a fool to stay in the DA's office is enough to make me ill… _

As she took a seat at the back of the courtroom, Jack McCoy began his closing. As she listened to him summarize the evidence the people had against the defendant, she took note of how the jurors listened so intently, as if McCoy were an actor reciting Shakespeare. They seemed to all ready be hanging on his every word.

Even the defense counsel - the urban Arthur Gold - was listening intently as McCoy leaned over the railing between himself and the jury, making a point of looking at each juror.

The last time she had listened to him give a closing was a few months after Becky had been born. She had come to the courthouse to have lunch with him. She remembered how in awe she had been then. Even when she was assisting him and had occasion to regularly watch him work, his closings never seized to amaze her. She realized how proud she was not only to be married to Jack McCoy, but to have worked with and learned from such a skilled litigator.

_How did everything go so wrong_, she wondered.

The night she had told him about her pregnancy they had had the biggest fight of their marriage. After McCoy threw the gauntlet down and all dared her to file for divorce, the gloves were off. The only thing that stopped the barrage of verbal sword play was Denny Donnelly' s return to the living room.

His words still echoed in her ears when she thought of that night.

"_If you two want to destroy each other, at least have enough sense to do it somewhere that your daughter isn't going to hear you," he demanded as he glared at the couple. "Get a divorce, get an abortion, but until the courthouse opens, get in separate corners and stay there!"_

She remembered the look of utter contempt on her husband's face as he grabbed the green jacket off the coat rack and headed for the door.

"_Your brother's right. I'll be spending my nights at the office. Call me if you decide you want both of our children, as well as their father."_

The next morning she sat with her brother watching her daughter play on the swing set in the backyard.

"_What did Jack say when you called him?"_

"_What makes you think I called him?'_

"_Why wouldn't you?"_

"_Because I haven't decided I want him," _she said defiantly.

"_You still have that stubborn streak of Dad's don't you," _he asked amused. _"Of course you want him, you just haven't admitted it to yourself, yet."_

Liz narrowed her eyes as she looked at her brother.

"_Denny you've never been married. You have no idea-"_

"_I may never have been married but I had more than my share of 'romances' before I went to Vietnam. People that don't want each other don't put so much effort into hurting each other. And by the way, I have to correct you."_

"_Correct me on what," _she smirked.

"_I heard that bit you threw in Jack's face about how you got pregnant the first time," he said lowering his voice as Becky ran past them to find a toy. " I heard Mom's end of the conversation when you told her you were pregnant. Last night you seem to have forgotten who didn't use her diaphragm on the honeymoon."_

Liz blushed at the unexpected comment.

"_And that is relevant now because," _she had asked in a acidic tone her brother promptly laughed off.

"_Because a much as you don't want to admit it, Elizabeth you want this child every bit as much as you wanted your first child. You're a practical woman. If you didn't want it, you wouldn't have waited around four weeks to deal with it."_

"_Even if that is true," _she replied stubbornly. _"What makes you think I'd give Jack the time of day after last night?"_

Donnelly shrugged his shoulders, giving his sister a smug look of confidence.

"_Same reason. You're a smart woman. If you didn't want your husband anymore, you would be sitting out here, talking to me. If you didn't want to be tied to Jack McCoy you'd be in the study drawing up divorce papers yourself."_

After two weeks and six sessions with a marriage counselor, McCoy had returned home. The next two months had been spent walking on eggshells and trying to mend fences in the relationship. By the end of May, Liz had begun showing enough that the couple had told their daughter about the new baby.

The excitement generated by Becky's reaction to the baby was enough to soften both parents hearts to the point that they began to share the same bed again. When McCoy had mentioned Kopell's invitation to spend the evening on the yacht, Liz had seen it for the olive branch it was. Accepting it would be taken as a sign by McCoy that Liz was truly ready for them to be a couple once more.

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As the cab headed towards the marina, Liz impulsively kissed her husband with more passion than she had since her pregnancy was revealed.

McCoy grinned at her afterwards, his eyes asking an unspoken question.

"I'd forgotten how much your closings used to stir me," she said innocently.

"Had I realized they had this kind of an effect on you, I would have found an excuse for you to meet in the courtroom a long time ago," he said as he returned the kiss.

"You know," Liz began as she moved into closer to McCoy. "Denny's out with Danielle and Becky's set for the night with the Miller's. If we went home, we'd have the house to ourselves-"

McCoy chuckled as he gave his wife a sideways glance.

"I figured it was either your hormones or a ploy to get out of spending the evening with Paul and Anna."

"You really have your heart set on a night of hearing about the house in the Hampton's and Paul's latest success story - you know - how he managed to get another gangster back on the street due to some careless error our office made?"

"Honestly. I'd rather be home with you reading you one of my closing to see how much more I could 'stir' you," he joked. "But, were almost there and I haven't spent any real time with Paul since Becky's last birthday. Besides, there _is _the bait."

Liz sighed as she looked down at the brown paper bag.

"Fine. But, can we at least try to make it home before midnight?"

McCoy reached into the pocket of the green jacket.

"Deal. Maybe this will give you something to think about when Anna starts in with the latest rock Paul gave her."

Liz recognized the box. The blue velvet wrinkled from the exposure to the water the previous year. She opened it, first staring at the heart shaped pendant that was covered in diamonds, then back at her husband.

"Jack, I thought you took it back to Tiffany's."

McCoy lowered his eyes as he took the box and removed the necklace.

"I thought about it. At the time, you were right. We couldn't afford it. But, I was paying for it on credit and I decided I'd hold onto to it. Give to you for Christmas, instead of Valentines Day. Then we started having problems and I didn't want you to see it as me throwing money at our problems…I just threw it in my desk drawer at the office. With the new baby coming I thought maybe this was the right time to give to you," he said as he fastened the clap around her neck. "I love you Elizabeth Joan Donnelly McCoy. I never stopped. I never will."

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"You know Liz, maybe after this baby's born, you'd consider joining Paul's firm," Anna Kopell remarked as she took the last of the dinner dishes from Liz. "I know Jack's a lost cause, I'll bet Paul could fix it so the hours were flexible enough that you could still work part time and have time for Becky and the baby. Jack mentioned a while back that you found corporate law boring. This way you could still practice criminal law-"

Liz fought to keep her face void of emotions she cut Anna off abruptly stating she would be returning to her present job.

Anna Kopell nearly dropped the piece of Waterford crystal she was drying.

"I'm sorry, Liz. I just assumed…with two children money, as well as time, will be tighter than ever. I know Jack mentioned he was thinking about interviewing at Cromwell, Moore. I thought you'd be leaving-"

"When did he tell you that," she asked sharply.

Liz knew her husband had been disappointed when the Executive Assistant position hadn't come his way. She had seen him updating his resume a few weeks before, as well. When she'd asked about it, McCoy had mentioned the well known Manhattan firm of Cromwell, Moore, & Associates was looking for a new associate in their criminal defense department. After pointing out the fact being a prosecutor was as much a part of who he was as his Irish - Catholic upbringing, whether he liked it or not, the subject hadn't come up.

Anna looked sincerely embarrassed and for a moment Liz felt ashamed she had put her on the spot. Although Anna Kopell was everything Liz McCoy swore she'd never be, Liz knew Anna was genuinely fond of her husband and wouldn't deliberately try to create conflict for him.

"Actually, Jack said something to Paul when Paul brought up the idea of Jack reconsidering applying to Paul's firm-"

"Anna, Jack wouldn't be Jack if he wasn't a prosecutor. You know that. Paul should too - he's not only seen Jack do his job - Paul's been on the other side of the aisle from him in more than one case."

Anna sighed as they walked back out onto the deck of the yacht. The two women stood in silence, looking out across the water.

"Listen, Liz. I don't mean to offend you. But, let's face it. It's going to take years for either you or Jack to get the recognition you deserve working as state employee's. You've said yourself you don't know how you're going to put in those hours and care for Becky and the baby-"

"Frankly Anna, I'd rather work seven days a week 365 days a year than work one hour for someone like Robert Dosso or his son," Liz said bluntly. "Has Paul told you about the case he's taken? These people aren't just wise guys rigging gambling in this town, Anna. Dosso Jr. damn near killed that girl-"

"Paul doesn't have to like every client he takes on," Anna snapped. "It's not just the prosecutor's that make the system run. The system wouldn't work at all if someone wasn't willing to defend the Dosso's of the world and you know it, Liz."

Liz glanced at her watch as she felt her temper flare. Best friend's wife or not, Liz wasn't in the mood to sugar coat the truth about the consequences of someone like Paul Kopell defending a man like Robert Dosso. Not after viewing the crime scene photo's and spending the better part of the morning trying to talk down the hysterical sixteen year old victim.

"It's getting late Anna. I think it's time Jack and I head home," she said as she turned started towards the stairs leading to the lower deck.

"Paul and Jack haven't seen each other in so long," Anna said regretfully. "I hate to see their visit cut short because you and I can't keep the peace."

Liz turned around to comment, not noticing the rope that lay beside the steps. As she turned, she lost her footing, falling back without warning and tumbling down the metal steps.


	13. Cira 6 l 83 After the Fall

_**June 6th, 1983**_

Jack McCoy carefully eased his wife into their bed, reaching behind her to raise the pillow behind her. It had been a week since the miscarriage. Although the internal bleeding had stopped, the Doctor had been skeptical about releasing her patient. Dr. Louisa Delgado had finally relented after McCoy insisted his wife would be better off going home. He argued seeing her daughter, as well as sleeping in her own bed,could only serve to improve her dispondent outlook.

"Are your ready for a pain pill?"

Liz nodded her head as she looked up at her husband gratefully.

"Thanks for backing me up with Dr. Delgado, Jack. I don't think I would have lasted another day away from you and Becky."

McCoy nodded as he sat down on the bedside her. Losing the baby had hit both of them hard. When he sat Becky down to tell her the baby had gone to heaven to be with Grandma Donnelly, it took everything he had not to fall apart again until his brother in law had take his daughter back outside to play.

McCoy suqeezed his wife's hand, giving her an impish half smile.

"My motives weren't entirely selfless. Becky and I could use a hand with the new edition."

Liz gave him an amused smirk.

"You brought it home. You take care of it," she said firmly.

"You say that now," he replied confidently. "Watching Becky with her can melt the heart of even a old cynic like me."

Liz shook her head as she laughed quietly at her husband.

"Better not let that get around the courthouse. You'll never hear the end of it from Arthur Gold and Norm Rothenberg if they find out old Hang' Em High _has_ a heart to melt."

"The day the opinion of either one of those shyster's matters to me, is the day I no longer deserve my nickname. Besides, your brother tells me you have as big a soft spot for golden retriever's as I do."

Liz sighed as she closed her eyes.

"I suppose a puppy will help keep Becky from wondering why the baby never came home."

McCoy nodded.

"Yeah, that was what I had in mind when I took her to the pet store," he said, his voice trialing off.

"What is it, Jack?"

McCoy seemed to hesitate.

"Look, I know it's much too soon to… Doctor Delgado was on rounds when I came to pick you up, so I didn't get a chance to ask her myself. Did she say how soon…"

Liz smiled at him, as she gently stroked his cheek.

"You are something else. Four weeks before we can resume marital relations."

McCoy flushed as he looked down at the hardwood floor.

"Well, I won't deny wondering about _that. _But four weeks seems awfully soon to try again. I know when my mother mis-"

"'Try again'," she repeated apprehensively. "Jack, as much as we both grew to love the baby, I thought … You said you didn't plan on another child. Neither had I. You're not saying you want more children?"

"Until the baby, I hadn't given it much thought," he admitted. "But after… you and I both have siblings. I think Becky-"

"Jack," she said as she paled. "This isn't about Becky. Right now, I want to know about you. I _never_ thought _you'd _want …"

"One of the reasons I interviewed with Cromwell, Moore was-"

"Oh God," she whispered. "You didn't cancel that? When …. Did you take their offer?"

McCoy stared at his wife, puzzled and increasingly uneasy himself.

"The interview was last Thursday. They said they'd notify me before the end of the month. Liz, if you don't feel… if you want to wait… that's totally under-"

"I have to tell you something," she said urgently.

McCoy waited as the tears mde her eyes shiny. Liz took a breath and closed her eyes, as if preparing to dive off a cliff.

"When I lost the baby… I was still conscious when they brought me into the OR. I didn't want to … we had talked about it before I got pregnant…"

"Tell me," he said as he metally braced himself.

"I told Dr. Delgado to perform a tubule legation . I thought …"

When McCoy looked at her there were tears in his eyes as well, as well as a stricken expression that made his wife turn away from his forlorn stare.

"And she _did _it," he asked in disbelief. "during a miscarriage? Isn't it customary to have a consult first - with both spouses before-"

"Jack, we talked about this with her right after Becky was born. Louisa was hesitant … don't blame her. She's my physician. It was my decision..."

McCoy stood and moved to the bedroom window. Several minutes went by as he looked out at the street below.

Liz waited for a cutting remark or blunt questioning that never came. Finally, she eased herself out of the bed.

"Jack," she said softly as she laid her hand on his shoulder."Say something, please."

"You really believe that don't you," he asked still looking out the window.

"I don't understand."

McCoy shook his head as he moved towards the door way.

"Maybe that's the problem," he said hoarsely. "Maybe that's been the problem all along."


	14. Cira 1 l 84:  Admitting Defeat

_**January 22nd 1984:**_

Amanda Anderlee made no attempt to hide the surprise she felt when Elizabeth McCoy took a seat across from her.

"Elizabeth, when I saw a 'Mrs. McCoy' had scheduled an appointment, I had no idea it was you. I suppose it would be too much to hope for that this is either a social call or my friends at the AAUW sent you to prod me into attending tonights vigil for the _Roe v Wade_ anniversary?"

Liz smiled weakly as she shook her head.

"I'm sorry to put you in the middle of this, Mandy. The lawyers I know with a reputation of discretion and speed are involved in a practice with a criminal department that deals with the DA's office on a regular basis. When I found out you'd opened a civil practice after your pregnancy, you seemed like the logic choice. If you're uncomfortable... If you'd rather I went to another firm I'd understand."

"Elizabeth, "Anderlee said firmly. "don't be ridiculous. If it has to be done, if you're sure this is what you want, of course I'll represent you. What are sorority sisters for?"

Liz nodded as she looked across at the woman who had been her college roommate nearly a decade before. Liz still couldn't believe she was sitting there. It was the last place she ever expected to find herself.

"Since you came to me, I assume you don't want a blood bath. I usually ask my clients before we begin if they have exhausted all of their other options … trial separation, marriage counseling…"

"Jack's all but moved out. He's been coming by to primarily to pick up fresh clothes and see Becky for almost three months. We tried marriage counseling a few months before the miscarriage. No. There aren't any other options. It's time to think about our daughter and do something that will create a stable environment for her. Besides, the marriage has been like a hang nail for too long. It's time to cut our losses and get on with our lives. The way things are…," she said as her voice began to shake. "it's just too painful - for Jack - as well as myself."

Anderlee studied her face carefully. She remembered the night she had attended Jack and Liz's wedding reception. Since she had suspended her criminal practice, several friends and colleagues had looked to her out for similar assistance. A much as each visit had been unexpected, this one caused her the most surprise.

Anderlee reached into a desk drawer, pulling out a set of forms and placed the black rimed glasses on her nose.

"We can start the preliminaries today. Who will be representing Jack?"

Liz thought a moment.

"I don't know. I know Paul Koppel's firm has a civil department, but I doubt Jack would use them."

Anderlee set her pen down as her face softened.

"Jack does know you're here, doesn't he?"

"He knows things can't stay with way indefinitely," she said quietly. "Besides, in spite of Jack's contempt for the church - he's still a Catholic at heart. No matter how miserable he is, he'll never set the divorce in motion. Not only would he see it as an admission of personal failure, he'd see it has abandoning Rebecca."

"I can have him served by the end of the week, if you're sure he won't-"

"He won't," she said sharply. "Just make it clear the messenger is to be discreet. I don't want to turn this into a drama for him at work. But, as far as his reaction? Jack won't like it, but he won't stand in my way."

Anderlee gave her a questioning look.

"You just said admitted Jack doesn't like to lose. How can you be so sure he won't-"

Liz responded with a whisper of a smile as she said candidly. "He said as much."


	15. A Bitter Frost

_**January 31st, 1984:**_

"Hi, Jack. You have a minute?"

Jack McCoy looked up from the draft he had been working on. He smiled broadly, motioning to the empty chair in front of his desk.

"Hi yourself, stranger. How are things on the eighth floor?"

Diana Hawthorne shrugged her shoulders as she sat across him.

"About the same as they were up here - chaotic at best. Although working for Ron is less…," she smiled slightly as she searched for the word she was looking for, "less intense, than working for you. How are things working out between you and the new guy?"

McCoy leaned back in his chair as he smiled slyly.

"About as you'd expect - Rob's a gifted attorney - as are you. Although you have nicer legs than he does."

Hawthorne blushed slightly at the unexpected compliment and looked down at the file she held.

"I didn't think you noticed."

"If you really thought that, you didn't learn as much as I thought you did, in the time we worked together." McCoy countered."What can I do for you, Diana?"

Hawthorne returned the grin, as she pondered the question.

"Actually, Ron sent me,"she said leaning towards McCoy has she handed him the file. "Seems you've had previous dealings with our defendant. Ron thought maybe you could fill us in. Give us a little background."

McCoy squeezed her fingers slightly as he took the file.

"I'd be more than happy to fill you in-,"McCoy began, interrupted by the abrupt ringing of the phone beside him."McCoy."

Hawthorne could immediately noticed the shift in his manner, as she listened to his end of the conversation. His jaw tightened as he exchnaged playful banter for cool formality.

"Wow," she commented as he set the receiver down. "I feel like I went from a warm summer day to a winter snow storm, in the span of a minute. Who _was _that?"

McCoy stood and grabbed the green jacket off the rack. As he started towards the door he replied, without looking back.

"Elizabeth Donnelly."

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Although the snow had begun to fall at a steady pace by the time the cab dropped him at the park entrance, McCoy kept his long strides measured, as he walked. He could feel the heavy packet against his chest, weighing down the inner pocket his suit jacket against his outer coat. He could remember the lump in his throat when he had opened the packet and realized what it was.

He slowed his pace when he saw the figure standing at the center of the bridge.

"Clancy's would have been closer. And warmer," he said stiffly, once he reached the place Liz stood.

He followed her gaze across the frozen water to the trees that stood bleak and barren .

"I thought you might not want to risk being interrupted by colleagues or friends," she said turning to face him. "If you don't mind the cold, there's a bench on the other side of the bridge. This shouldn't take long."

"If I were intimidated by the cold, I wouldn't have agreed to meet you," he retorted curtly as he started across the bridge.

Liz thought better of repeating the response that came to mind, as she mentally holstered her verbal sword, walking a few paces behind him to the empty bench.

McCoy watched her as she joined him on the bench. As she opened her briefcase he noted the dark circles under her eyes the make up failed to completely hide, as well the faint scent of Channel Number Five. The framilar scent suddenly reminded him of how much he missed their home, their child, and their bed.

Liz closed the case, setting it beside her, as she handed him an envelope.

"What's this? The ink on the divorce petition isn't even dry yet and you have an order for spousal support," he asked sarcastically.

"Becky asked me to give it to you," she said quietly. "She made it last night and wanted you to have it before you came by on Friday."

McCoy pulled out the page of drawing paper that was covered with stars of various shapes and sizes.

"Why stars," he asked as he stared down at the paper.

Liz cleared her throat as she replied,"She says she misses counting them with you."

McCoy sighed softly as he closed his eyes. _How did I let it go this far_, he asked himself.

"Listen Liz, everyone goes through bad times. Maybe -"

Liz shook her head as she ran a hand over her eyes.

"Let's not do this, Jack. Just give me the copy of the visitation draft you signed and I'll get it to Amanda. You know I don't want support - I'm working full time and I have my inheritance. We already talked about child support. As for the property, that can wait until the meeting with our attorney's next week."

McCoy stood up abruptly as he patted the front of his coat. Feigning annoyance, he opened the coat and felt around the pockets.

"Fine," he said shortly. " However, there is one problem. I left the papers in my hotel room. If you want them now, we'll have to go to my room."


	16. Baby, it's Cold Outside

Liz discreetly eyed her husband as the cab weaved through the late afternoon traffic towards the Marriott Hotel. She had hesitated before agreeing to go to his room, sensing such a visit could put her in a situation she wasn't sure she could walk away from. As certain as she was of her decision to file for divorce, she knew how hard the last few months had been on both of them, as well as their child.

Although McCoy had been out of the house weeks before he had been served with divorce papers, Liz still found herself waking up in the middle of the night startled when she'd reached for the man she'd slept with for nearly six years, to find his side of the bed empty. The last thing she wanted was for McCoy to sense her vunerabilty.

McCoy had noticed her 'what do you take me for' look when he made the suggestion to go to hie room to pick up the preliminary papers for the divorce. He had given her a gruff rebuff that was half dare, half annoyance. Reluntantly, she had relented.

"Did you hear about Levinson in frauds,"he asked staring out the window at the steady stream of snow.

"You mean about his resigning,"she answered, her mind debating the wisdom in just having the cab driver stop and getting the papers from McCoy the next day.

"Yes. Adam's going to want to fill his position fast,"he said sensing her discomfort. "Have you given any thought to applying?"

"About as much thought as you have," she shot back."Somethings never change, do they Jack? Did it ever occur to you that, if everyone who found sex crimes vile left the bureau, there wouldn't be anyone left to prosecute the prepetrators?"

McCoy suppressed a grin as he responded, knowing had been successful in buying himself the time he needed to get her to the hotel.

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McCoy closed the door behind her, neither missing a beat, as they continued to snipe about the position in frauds. McCoy left his coat and sachel on the dresser, as he motioned to the chairs beside the small table near the window.

"…you are the mother of a small child, Liz. In SVU, the majority of the people you prosecute are people that eventually get out of prison. If one of them holds a grudge and comes after you, Becky will pay the price."

Liz shook her head as she looked up at him.

"You can't seriously expect me to let such flawed logic go unchallenged, Jack. Replace SVU with Major Felonies and the same thing applies to you. Not everyone you prosecute gets the needle.You're at as much risk as I am, if not more."

McCoy threw up his hands in mock exasperation, before opening the half empty bottle of scotch that had been on the table..

"I'm not going to apologize for wanting the mother of my child to be safe," he said stubbornly as he handed her a glass. "You might as well get warmed up while I look for those papers."

Liz's eyes narrowed as she set the glass down.

"Jack they're either here or they're not. Don't play games with me."

McCoy began opening the drawers of the small writing desk across the room.

"You know me better than that," he said shortly. "I have things to do myself. I told Ron's assistant I'd meet her at Clancy's to review a case. Seems we have a defendant in common."

McCoy glanced at Liz as he spoke. He turned away as he felt the corner of his lips turn upwards, a look of recognition flashing across Liz's face.

"How_ is_ Diana," she asked dryly.

McCoy closed the drawers, slipping the packet quickly from his suit jacket as he removed it and tossed it on the dresser.

"She seems to be doing well," he continued as he moved a chair next to her.

"All right, let me sign these and you can be on your way," he said sitting beside her."I'll be sure to tell her you asked about her."

Donnelly glared at him as she took a sip of the scotch.

"Yeah, Jack. You do that.Can we do this,"she asked bluntly.

"Fine by me," he said taking a pen from his coat pocket. Suddenly he frowned, and began flipping through the pages."You know, there _is_ something on the third page I wanted to ask you about before I signed this."

Liz moved closer to look where his index finger indicated.

"The third page," she repeated. "Jack, the only thing on the page is -"

McCoy waited for her to look up at him before silencing her with a kiss.


	17. In the Light of Day

McCoy listened as she spoke quietly into the receiver, informing her brother she had hit a snag in a case and had to work late. She thanked him for putting her daughter to bed and reassured him she would take care on the icy streets, when she returned home, although he should go to bed and not wait up for her. When she set the receiver down, McCoy reached across the bed to pull her back into an embrace.

"Jack, this-"she began.

"You don't have to tell me what this is," he whispered as he kissed her lips. He ignored her half hearted attempt to pull away, his tongue persisted in it's mission, until her lips began to part and seized the opportunity to slip inside.

As he ran his hands over her body, he thought back to the events of the last few hours. How quickly he'd been able to seduce away her apprehension, his initial feeling of guilt for his deception washed away, by her bodys response to his touch. A response that led him to believe the ends had overwhelmingly justified the means.

He heard her moan as she gave in once again. She reached for him, pushing him back onto the mattress, as she wrapped herself around him.

His body had ached for her as if it they had been away from each other years, instead of a few months. The first time they made love that night had been reckless and fleeting. This time, McCoy fought to slow them both down, wanting to savor every moment of their time together. He ran a hand over her face, carefully pulling her hair back, as he looked up at her.

Liz's dark eyes were shiny as she met his gaze.

"Jack, this doesn't-"

"God, I'd almost forgotten how soft you are…how good you feel," he said as he began to kiss her neck.

"Please…Jack..."

The note of panic in her voice stopped him cold. He looked back at her, a stricken look covering his face.

"Do you want me to stop...oh God," he asked, his voice shaking. "Elizabeth, I never meant…"

Liz shook her head, immediately sensing the misunderstanding, she took his face in her hands.

"You _didn't_. My God Jack, you could never force me… _never_. Not under any circumstances, "she said firmly while she hand a hand through the tossled hair. "No. I don't want to mislead you … I don't want you to think this is going to change anything."

McCoy considered her words. The steady hum of the wall heater breaking the silence in the room. He wasn't surprised. He wasn't hurt or even angry. The only thing McCoy felt was a blanket of numbness that began to envelope him. It was a feeling of emptiness he couldn't remember having since he was a child.

"I've told you before, I'm still willing to try. But, if you turn me down this time, I won't ask again," he said bluntly.

Liz lowered her eyes while she in turn, considered his words. Something in his tone told her this wasn't another attempt at manipulation or an idle threat. She had always known McCoy was a proud man. A man as unaccustomed to losing, as he was to begging. She knew he meant what he said.

"We have tried. I love you, Jack. But it's not enough. Every time we try, we lose a little bit more of what we had," she said wiping her eyes. "You know it's true. That's why you started sleeping at the office after the miscarriage. You knew I'd be forced to take the next step, if you stayed away long enough."

"I never asked you to file for divorce," he began.

"Not in so many words. But we both know, actions speak louder than words," she said shrewdly. "It's time to let go while we still can, without destroying each other in the process."

As she threw the sheet back, McCoy reached for her hand and she looked back at him curiously.

"Morning will be here soon enough," he whispered hoarsely. "Stay with me tonight. In the morning I'll sign anything you want, as long as the visitation rights for Becky are liberal. I'm still her father. Nothing will ever change that."

"At least we agree on that,"she said quietly as she drew the sheet to her.

"Stay tonight. Be my wife, one more night,"he said tenderly, as his throat tightened.

She knew staying would make it more difficult for both of them when the time finally came for them to part. The smart thing would be to cut her emotional losses and go. But, at that moment she wasn't feeling smart. Instead, she felt as if she'd been abandoned.When he reached out his hand, she took and laid back down beside him.

They both knew, there would be plenty of time to be smart in the morning, as they began to mourn the loss they both felt.


End file.
